


All of Me Adds Up to You

by elegantdalek



Series: All of Me Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Graphic Description, M/M, Minor Character Death, Weechesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-03
Updated: 2012-12-03
Packaged: 2017-11-20 05:25:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/581756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elegantdalek/pseuds/elegantdalek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>15 year old Sam is always angry with his dad and Dean misses his little brother. Luckily they've got an entire month to stay in a cabin by themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All of Me Adds Up to You

**Author's Note:**

> Possible anachronistic cell phone use.

Sam and Dean were driving in the middle of Idaho, but it might as well have been the moon because they hadn't passed a single car in more than two hours.  It was summer, so their dad left them on their own more often than not. He was currently in Minnesota, or Michigan, or one of those endless ‘M’ states, chasing down the monster of the week. Sam and Dean were in the Impala just driving.

Sam was 15 and pissed off at his dad.

Yup, that summed him up quite nicely.

Dean tried to calm him down, but it was getting harder and harder to pull Sam out of his angsty teenage moods. He longed for the days when he could get Sam to do something just by looking at him. And Sam would look back with endless devotion in his eyes. Sam still loved and was devoted to his brother, but he didn't always do what Dean said.

Dean had tried to ward off some of the foul mood by buying them both giant sodas at their last gas station. Sam had brightened noticeably and it was a fine July day and they were driving down the road with the windows open and the music blaring. Every so often Dean would glance over at Sam and marvel at the size of his little brother. He was now taller than Dean, but didn't eat enough to fill out his height quite yet, so he gave off the impression of being a colt or a large puppy. His muscles weren't big, but they were powerful. Dad had made sure of that.

As the day wore on, though, Sam inevitably started to get restless. With his new limb length it was especially difficult for him to get comfortable in the car. He tried leaning against the window, and then the seat. He tried to stretch out and tilt his head back but all that did was give him wicked neck burn. Dean remembered hating having such an awkward body, being such an awkward age, having such an awkward life. More than anything he wished he could be a normal person, with a house to live in, rather than the hundreds of motel rooms and crappy apartments he had grown up with. Obviously Sam felt the same way because he told Dean as much.

Dean also missed the days when he could get Sam’s neck under his arm and squeeze and Sam would laugh and stop being angry. Actually, he missed when Sam would stop being angry, period.

"Sammy, we're going to a cabin right now! It will be all ours for an entire month. No school, no training, no responsibility." Dean told him, hands gripping the steering wheel. It seemed like every conversation turned into a fight these days.

"Yeah and no parents either. Why did dad have to leave us on our own?" Sam asked Dean.

It was a sore subject with them. "I told you, he needs to hunt this thing alone. We would slow him down."

"But we're his family! We're supposed to be with him!" Sam yelled at Dean.

Dean couldn't take it anymore. "It doesn't matter!" he yelled back at Sam. "It's dad, and that's what he did, so we have to live with it! He told us to go to this cabin and we are going! End of story!"

"I hate him," Sam muttered under his breath.

Dean let out a sigh and took a minute before he answered. "No you don't, Sam."

It was even longer before Sam answered back, and so quietly that Dean wasn't sure if he was meant to hear: "Yes I do. And so do you."

***

At 7 pm Sam woke up again. He had managed to fall asleep for a few hours, giving Dean a relaxing drive. But he knew the instant Sam woke up. Years of training (Sam’s entire life) had taught him to differentiate between sleeping breaths and waking breaths. When Sam woke up, Dean was initially relieved. There was always the fear (albeit small and in the back of his head, but still there) that Sam wouldn’t wake up from his nap. When Dean was 8 Dad had told him about a guy he knew who didn’t wake up one day and it turned out a monster had taken the breath from his lungs as he slept. Dean knew his dad told him so he could protect Sam even more than he already was.

Not once did Dean stop to think about whether Dad should have told him or not. Neither did Dean tell Dad that that was what the nightmares of the next six months were about.

Dean also didn’t tell Dad that that was the main reason he slept in his little brother’s bed until Sam was almost 7.

Sam interrupted Dean from his thoughts. “Are we almost there?”

That was another thing Dean didn’t miss about his childhood. Though he supposed he really meant _Sam’s_ childhood. His own childhood literally went up in flames. But he could remember Dad getting mad at Sam for asking ‘are we almost there’ too many times. Dean used to come up with funny answers for Sam, such as, “we’re almost to…tickle town!” and tickle Sam into giggles. Or he would pretend he couldn’t open his mouth and would just mumble out an answer between his lips. Sam would get so frustrated trying to get Dean to answer him that he would forget about the question. But sometimes Dean wasn’t in the mood and he wanted to know just as badly as Sam when they would get there. At these times Dean would crawl into the backseat with Sam and lay down, pulling Sam close to his chest and protecting him with his arms. “I don’t know, Sammy. I don’t know,” he would whisper to Sam’s hair until he felt Sam fall asleep. Dean never told Sam what he realized one day, that ‘there’ was as unattainable as the stars.

“Dean!” Sam yelled, wiggling his fingers in front of Dean’s face.

“Sorry,” Dean said. “I think it’s going to be another two hours. I can’t remember; it’s been like ten years since I was there, man.”

“We better not be lost, Dean.”

“We’re not!” Dean said defensively. “I just don’t remember how long it takes to get there. It’s kinda in the middle of nowhere dude. Just go back to sleep.”

“I can’t.”

“Well don’t then,” Dean said, and it was silent in the Impala for so long Dean thought Sam had fallen back asleep. The kid was never going to get to sleep when they finally got to the cabin, but at least there would be room to stretch out. Maybe they could walk out to the overlook Dean remembered Sam liking so much.

“Deeeeean?” Sam whined, pulling Dean back to the present.

“What?”

“I have to pee,” Sam said sheepishly.

Being an older brother was seriously a full time job. “Can’t you hold it?”

“No, I really gotta go. I drank too much Coke.”

Dean sighed. “There isn’t really anywhere to pull over here. Don’t you wanna just get there?”

“No!” When Dean didn’t answer, Sam got desperate. “I’ll go right now.”

“Sammy, if you piss your pants in my car, you won’t live to do it again.”

“I’ll do it!”

“Sam,” Dean said warningly.

“Fine, I’ll go in the soda cup then,” Sam said, and reached behind him and fished the giant styrofoam cup from the clutter of trash. Dean watched him with trepidation. Sometimes it was worse to respond to Sam’s anger with his own. It just made him more determined. But when Sam zipped down his jeans and pulled out his dick, Dean almost lost it.

“Sam! Stop!” he yelled, and slammed on the brakes. He should have done it earlier. They were in the middle of nowhere, after all. But Dean had, foolishly, he now admitted, thought he could teach Sam a lesson. Apparently it was him that was getting the lesson instead.

Dean grabbed Sam’s arm, intending to pull him outside, but stopped, transfixed at the sight of his brother’s cock. It wasn’t like he’d never seen it before. He’d seen it way more times than he would ever care to admit. But it had been a few years, and somewhere in-between 12 and 15 Sam sure had grown. Sam’s cock was probably bigger than his own, which was saying something. It was bigger than any guy’s he’d ever slept with as well. He couldn’t imagine fitting something that large into his ass.

Suddenly Dean’s body caught up with his brain, and he pulled back, horrified at his thoughts. This time he did grab Sam, hard, which caused his flow to stop, which had previously been nice and steady and hotter than Dean would care to admit. Dean didn’t say anything, just pulled Sam out of the car and pushed him off the road. Miraculously, Sam had managed to hold the half-full cup of piss upright. He glared at Dean and threw it into the woods. Then he finished peeing, just standing right there, looking Dean in the eye. Dean couldn’t look away. Though he did manage to glance down briefly as Sam shook the last drops off his cock and zipped it back up. It freaked him out enough to get back into the car.

Sam opened the other door and got into his side. He slammed the door, hard, and pointedly did not put on his seat belt. Dean didn’t want to be the first to say anything, so he turned the keys and started back down the road.

***

The last two hours passed quickly. Sam wasn’t saying anything, just being an angsty bitch like normal, so Dean was again alone with his thoughts. Those thoughts most certainly did not include his brother’s dick. He mentally planned out the next month – what food they would buy, where they would hike, what they would do for fun. He couldn’t remember much about the cabin, but he did know it was small. That might be tough after a month, though anything was bigger than the Impala. But really, they had never had a large space to call their own. Dean and Sam had shared a room, if not a bed, almost every night of their lives. Not only were they used to it, they were comfortable with it, and sometimes even craved it. Dean remembered the house dad had managed to rent a few years back that had actually had three bedrooms. But it was also the town of Sam’s first middle school. For the first month they lived there, Sam snuck into Dean’s room after dad went to bed. At 11, Sam had been called every awful name in the book, by monsters and creeps alike. But never by kids his own age.

The night after their first day Dean was coming back from the bathroom when he heard soft sobs coming from Sam’s room. He opened the door and went in. Sam saw him, but didn’t even try to stop crying. Dean got into bed with Sam and held him, soothing him to a tearless sleep, just as he had many times before. In the morning Dean tried to get Sam to tell him which kids had made fun of him, but Sam wouldn’t tell. Every morning, though, Dean would find Sam curled up in his bed. After a few weeks, it stopped happening as frequently, and eventually Sam stayed in his own room. Though soon enough dad packed them up and they moved again and started all over. This time Sam knew to look down while walking in the hallways, not to respond to bullies, and to make himself as unnoticeable as possible. He would easily be able to take on any of the largest kids in the school, but he knew that would only make it worse. The best method was to remain invisible.

It had been Dean’s first high school, too, but he was used to the names. Besides, he knew most of them were true anyways.

***

The last few miles were on tiny two-track roads and Dean had to drive incredibly slowly to avoid hurting his baby. A few times he heard Sam lightly grumbling, but he didn’t actually say anything out loud. He waited until they were out of the car.

“I’m sorry Dean,” Sam started, causing Dean to literally stop in his tracks. Those weren’t words he heard from Sam every day. “I should have listened to you and waited.”

Dean wanted to reply snippily, because he was still mad about the whole thing, but he stopped when he saw Sam’s face. Sam was looking down at his feet and actually looked really upset. Wonders never cease. “Don’t worry about it, kiddo,” Dean said, and slung his arm around Sam. “We’re finally here!

The small cabin was surrounded by trees, with a short path down to the lake. The stars were out with the moon hanging ominously over the cabin. It belonged to Phil, one of their dad’s long dead hunting friends. The last time they had been there Sam had still practically been in diapers. Though it was most memorable as the place Dean had taught Sam how to swim. While dad and Phil spent two days hunting, Dean managed to teach little Sam how to stay afloat in the water. And then, during the next week, while dad drank himself silly after Phil’s unfortunate death, Dean managed to teach Sam how to doggie paddle and swim backwards. He also taught him how to blow bubbles in the water with his mouth. Dean kept bugging dad to come out to the lake and watch Sam, but he never did. “Just keep an eye on Sammy,” is all he ever said.

With a sigh, Dean turned towards the cabin and found the key buried in a long dead flower pot. The lock was almost rusted through, and Dean thought he might have to break the door down, but then it finally turned. The smell was overwhelming. They’d locked up all the windows before they left, and no one had been there since.

“What’s the smell, Dean?” Sam asked Dean, with his hand over his nose.

“Probably some dead mice. Who knows,” he said, as he stumbled into the room. He knew there was a battery powered lamp somewhere. After hitting his leg twice he finally found it and, miraculously, it turned on. He stepped back and surveyed the room. There was a small kitchen, with a sink, a propane stove, and a rickety table. On the other end of the room were two overstuffed armchairs, facing a built-in fireplace. In the third corner was a room that opened to a double bed and a wooden dresser. The final corner was the door, another dresser, and the largest antlers Dean had ever seen. “I remember these! They scared the hell out of me. You wouldn’t ever look at them, remember Sammy?”

“Dean, where’s the bathroom?” Sam didn’t care about the antlers. Trust him to focus on the flaws of the place.

“It’s outside. You remember,” Dean said. “You were scared of that too, you punk. It’s a wonder you weren’t scared of the water.”

“There’s a lake?”

“Sammy, I taught you to swim here. You’ve got to remember that,”

Sam sighed. “All I remember about this place is Phil dying.”

Sam didn’t remember the swimming lessons? That was one of the highlights of Dean’s younger days. He frowned and pushed Sam the rest of the way in and shut the door. “Are you at least excited that we’re here?” Dean asked hopefully. Sam let out a grunt that could possibly be interpreted as positive, but Dean couldn’t begin to think that that was the case.

“What about a shower, Dean?” Sam asked, looking around hesitantly.

Dean couldn’t believe Sam didn’t remember the fun time they’d had the last time they were here. “The lake is our shower, the woods are out toilet, and the sun is our light!” he said with his hands out, trying to convey to Sam the pleasantness of the situation.

“But there’s an outhouse, right?” Sam asked quickly.

“Yes, Sammy. Jesus.” Sam was sure doing a good job of spreading his foul mood to his brother. He thought being here at the cabin, away from their dad and civilization would be good for Sam. Apparently not tonight, though. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help trying once more to brighten Sam’s mood. “Do you wanna go for a quick hike? The moon’s out.”

“No.”

Dean couldn’t help rolling his eyes. “Don’t be a bitch, dude.”

“Dean, I –“

“Whatever. Let’s just go to bed.” Dean stepped back out the door, relishing the cool night air. Maybe it would just be better to go to bed. He was, after all, really tired from driving all day. Things would be better in the morning. He grabbed their bags from the truck and went back into the cabin. Sam was in the tiny bedroom, but he walked out when he heard Dean enter the cabin.

“We have to share a bed?”

“Yeah, so?”

“I – I’ll just sleep on the -,” he looked over to the two armchairs, “in a chair.”

“That’s stupid. Sleep in the bed with me. Plus it gets real cold here at night.”

“No I’m ok.” He sat down in one of the chairs, and tried to lean back. When it didn’t move, he let out a tiny sigh of frustration and curled his legs under him. “See? Fine.”

Dean couldn’t wait until this day was over. He couldn’t think about his idiot brother anymore. He shook his head at Sam, threw his bag at him, and went into the bedroom with his own bag. When would this teenage phase be over? He couldn’t remember ever acting like Sam. Mostly, he supposed, because he was too busy taking care of Sam and making sure nothing was happening to him. The only really ‘teenager’ thing he remembered doing was being incredibly interested in girls. Dad had given him a pack of condoms one day and told him to be careful. Maybe Sam just needed a good fuck. Dean frowned; he couldn’t remember ever seeing Sam with a girl. Or a guy, for that matter. He knew he was interested though. When Sam was only 10 he’d nervously asked Dean to teach him how to kiss. Dean, at 14, was newly experienced with sex, and couldn’t help showing off for Sam. He remembered Sam asking for _weeks_ before he finally gave in and taught Sam to kiss. It wasn’t much, just a few dry pecks of their lips, before Dean pulled away and refused to try again, because he had a boner the size of his wrist. He’d been mortified and wouldn’t look at Sam for days afterwards. It took him two years before he could fuck a guy with dark hair; they all reminded him too much of his little brother.

Dean suddenly realized his incessant need to piss. He glanced over at Sam on his way out, but the kid was still on the chair, not moving. He supposed Sam wouldn’t need to take a leak until morning, what with all that pissing he’d done in the Impala. Dean started to bone up just thinking about it. But he couldn’t let himself think of his brother like that. He walked over to the woods and pulled his dick out of his jeans, squeezing the base roughly to discourage it from any funny business. He unhappily watched his spray darken the side of a tree, thinking about how cold it was. It had been in the low 70’s today, but they had driven further north as the day went on. Now it was barely 50. He hoped the cabin could retain heat. It was previously only used for the summer. The lake was luckily quite small and so the water was a comfortable temperature during the summer. But if Dean ever had to come in the fall or, god forbid, the winter, he’d have to do without cleaning himself. The best part about the cabin was its seclusion, which made it a nice hideout for hunters as well. True, Sam and Dean weren’t really hiding. More lying low, as their dad said. It was a good 45 minute drive to anywhere with food, and they’d have to make a run tomorrow.

After a minute Dean became aware of the fact that he was just standing there slowing jacking his cock. Without his permission it had hardened. With a sigh of resignation, he quickly jerked off. He’d have to get these feelings about Sam under control. The last thing the kid needed was his brother coming on to him. It was as much as he could do now to keep Sam relatively happy. Since the start of June, and the end of summer, he’d been almost insufferable. It was no wonder their dad had wanted to get away from them. It was typical dad behavior, trying to distance himself from his problems. When Sam was in 7th grade they had had a huge fight when dad wanted him to switch schools for the fourth time in three months. Instead of reasoning with him, or even forcing him to come, John had left, without a word, for two weeks, leaving Dean to take care of Sam and worry about what to do. He’d never even apologized for it either, just showed back up one day after school, in the Impala, waiting expectantly for his sons to get in and take off.

A few months later, dad showed up at the crappy apartment of the week with a new truck. He silently handed the Impala keys to Dean, and it was an unspoken agreement: ‘you take care of your brother.’ Dean would never stop taking care of Sam, but now it was almost official. Since then, John usually stayed with the boys, but he sometimes went on his own. Dean completely dropped out of school 6 months later, instead working shitty jobs to support himself and his brother. He still followed John’s orders, though, dropping everything if he had to, to follow dad. Sometimes, when Sam was questioning him, he too wondered why he blindly followed dad’s orders. Dean was a better dad than John was, and all three of them knew it as well. Dean wondered if Sam was right, if he did hate his dad. His first instinct was ‘no’, but if he was honest with himself, he wasn’t completely sure.

Dean watched his come splatter onto the same tree he’d pissed on, and tucked his dick back in. He turned his head up at the stars. It was amazing how many he could see from here. Dean wished Sam would still appreciate them. He resolved to get Sam to go on a midnight hike at least once, and went back into the cabin.

The single battery powered light was off, and he could hear Sam lightly snoring. He resisted the urge to walk over and ruffle his hair, and instead went back into the bedroom. He fumbled in the dark, but managed to get his shoes and clothes off, and into the bed with only his boxers. The long day had finally caught up with him. The sheets smelled like moth balls and the blankets were a little thin, but he quickly fell asleep.

***

In the morning the first thing Dean was aware of was his little brother. He’d obviously gotten cold, or sore, or both, in the middle of the night and joined Dean. The bed was plenty big for the two of them but Sam was still slightly curled around Dean’s bare back. He couldn’t resist grinning at that. He missed Sam so much sometimes. He turned around so he was facing Sam, and blew at his long bangs. He loved the way Sam slowly woke up and batted at the air before he finally opened his eyes and realized it was his brother.

“Jerk,” he called Dean, with a smile on his face. “Only you would wake me up when I don’t have anywhere to go,” he grumbled, but Dean could tell he was happy. Finally.

“Good morning Sammy!” Dean said cheerfully. “We’ve got the entire month, what would you like to do?”

“I’d like to kill my brother!” Sam yelled, and jumped on top of Dean.

However, Dean had been expecting something of the kind, and countered by grabbing Sam’s giant arms and flipping him. “Sorry, we’re all out of brother killing. I just ordered the last one.” He pinned Sam’s arms with his knees on either side of Sam’s hips, and ticked his brother.

“Dean!” Sam squealed and squirmed, trying to pull away, but Dean was too strong. He could only giggle uncontrollably, with Dean joining right in. “Okay, okay, I won’t kill you!” he gasped out.

Dean smugly grinned down at Sam and pulled his hands away. “Good.” And then he was suddenly aware of Sam’s morning wood poking at his ass. That sobered him up quick. He jumped off the bed to run into the kitchen, calling behind his back, “You ready for breakfast?” He didn’t want to make Sam embarrassed, not when he was in a good mood for once. He started looking through the small cupboard, figuring he’d give Sam a few minutes to jack off. So he was surprised to turn around and see Sam standing next to him in sweatpants and a sweatshirt. Dean couldn’t help glancing down and seeing Sam’s hard cock jut through the thin material. He cleared his throat and looked back up into Sam’s face.

“What are we eating today, superior brother?” Dean couldn’t help grinning at Sam’s newfound mood. It made him forget his growing obsession with his brother’s dick.

“Well, these cupboards haven’t been stocked in ten years, Sammy. Would you care for some cereal?” Dean asked, and pushed a box of Cheerios into Sam’s hand.

Sam wrinkled up his nose and pulled the bag out. It was full of mouse droppings. “Dean!” Sam yelled, and dropped the bag on the ground.

Dean grinned wickedly. “That’s the most edible thing I’ve found in here.” He stepped aside to let his brother look. The cupboard was a mess of plates and boxes and mouse droppings. He’d have to hunt down the owner of those droppings later. Then Sam pulled out a jar of peanut butter. “Good job Sammy!” Dean said, taking the jar from him.

“You open it,” Sam said.

It took a good hard twist, but Dean got the lid off. The contents sure looked like peanut butter. “I dare you to try it, Sammy,” Dean said.

“Nope.”

“Oh all right. Bitch.” Dean said, and stuck his finger in the jar. He pulled it out coated and stuck it into his mouth.

“Jerk!” Sam yelled, as Dean then swiped his moist finger on Sam’s cheek.

“It tastes fine, Sammy. Breakfast!” Dean said triumphantly. “We’d better go buy some food though, don’t you think?”

Sam glared at his brother as he wiped the peanut butter from his face, but took the jar from him and sucked on a finger of peanut butter of his own. And then smeared it on Dean’s bare chest. “Ok Dean,” he said, running away, as Dean yelled and chased after him.

Sam ran out the door and down the path to the lake, with Dean in quick pursuit. Both boys were laughing as they ran barefoot through the forest path. “Where ya going Sammy?” Dean taunted, amazed his brother could manage to keep ahead of him.

“You’re the one who claims there’s a lake here, right?”

“Yeah,” Dean barked, fingers almost touching Sam’s long hair. But Sam managed to keep out of his grasp.

“Well I think someone needs a morning swim,” Sam said, as they rounded the corner to the lake. There was a short dock that ended with a drop to the lake below. Dean knew the water was about 5 feet deep at that point.

Without much choice, Sam ran onto the deck, but he stopped short at the end of the dock. Dean stopped as well, a few feet behind him, lightly panting. “What now Sammy?” Sam was still in his sweatshirt and sweatpants. But despite the heavy clothes, he didn’t look at all tired from the unexpected run.

“You’re going in the lake. I’m going to watch,” Sam replied, pulling his sweatshirt off in one quick movement. His chest was bare underneath. “So go on, jump in,” he motioned.

Dean was staring at Sam’s chest. Damn, but he was broad. And those muscles weren’t lacking at all. A fact he quickly discovered, when he suddenly found himself head first in the lake. In his shock he gulped down a bunch of water. Once he surfaced, he coughed for a few long seconds, spurting the water everywhere. “Sam!” he yelled hoarsely. The little bitch was grinning down at him. There wasn’t anything he could do but reach forward and pull Sam’s ankle, along with the rest of him, into the lake as well.

Sam went right for Dean’s face, trying to push him under. They wrestled for a few minutes, stirring up the silt at the bottom of the lake. Eventually they both tired and stood panting in the water. Sam’s hair was plastered all over his face, but it couldn’t disturb the giant smile on his face. Dean couldn’t remember the last time Sam had smiled so much. He supposed it had been just as long for him.

Finally Sam jumped back up onto the dock. His sweatpants were soaked and he kicked them off, revealing thin boxers. Dean pulled himself onto the dock as well, and he was sure his own boxers were just as revealing as Sam’s at the moment.

The wooden dock creaked slightly under their combined weight right at the end. “That was fun,” Sam said a bit shyly. “I haven’t been in the water in a long time.”

“Remember that crappy Y we stayed at a few years ago? With the dirty pool?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, laughing, “We managed to scare everyone out in like 5 minutes.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, kicking their feet at the water. Dean remembered splash contests and races up and down the length of the pool. It was back when Sam still looked up to dad as a superhero and a role model. Soon after, each time John left his boys somewhere, Sam bitched and acted out in anger. He and Dean didn’t have as many ‘normal’ brother moments. They were still together all the time, obviously, but it was more in silence. Dean missed horsing around with Sam. He regretted the fact that Sam’s childhood was so short and unusual.

Sam stood suddenly. “Can we go buy some food now, Dean?” he asked, looking down at his brother. Dean looked up, surprised to find that Sam’s dick was within mouth range. And still half-hard, sticking out against his wet boxers. Dean couldn’t stand up fast enough.

“Let’s get into some clothes first, huh? Don’t want everyone looking at your naked body, Sam,” Dean said, as they walked back up to the cabin. He had to stop looking at Sam’s body himself.

***

Sam’s good mood lasted through the next few days. Going to town had been a blast; Dean had never laughed so hard in a grocery store. They couldn’t buy many perishables, because they had no way of keeping them cool, so they had fun coming up with ridiculous dinner ideas made of stuff like peanut butter and chips. They even had a grocery cart fight in the store. Dean could remember chasing Sam though many odd stores in his life, on the run on a wheely cart. But the last time had been when Sam was 11 or 12.

Early on Dean stopped questioning it and enjoyed Sam’s good mood. The past two or three years had been so full of angst that he’d forgotten how much fun his brother could be.

They swam in the lake everyday and chased each other through the woods. One day Sam made Dean play capture the flag, a game he’d played once at a birthday party. The boy’s mom had insisted on inviting everyone in her son’s class, and Dean made Sam go. Everyone had been surprised when Sam was the best player on either team. Dean remembered Sam talking happily about it for days. He’d loved being included by people his own age. But Dean also remembered when, a week later, Sam had shown up to school with a giant bruise on his arm from the monster of the week, and his class had ostracized him, telling him that his daddy beat him. They’d had to leave that town in a hurry. The school called Sam to the guidance counselor just minutes after Dean snuck him out of class and to the Impala, where dad was waiting to leave.

Over the years they had to deal with many close calls on parental abuse. Teachers would only believe ‘I fell down the stairs’ so many times. The funny thing was, the boys probably were subjected to parental abuse, in a matter of speaking. Just not of the physical kind.

Dean felt for his dad, he really did. He also remembered Mary, with her soft voice and loving arms. But after she died John became a shell of himself, and eventually filled it back up with hate. Dean sometimes felt sorry for him that he didn’t have that one person he was supposed to love, like he had with Sam. But Dean also blamed John for it. He could have devoted his life to his sons instead of revenge. It had been 15 years, and they were no closer to finding the yellow eyed demon than the night Mary had been killed. Dean used to hope his dad could forget it and find someone new to love. Sam would have a normal dad and a normal childhood, not a second-hand replacement for everything in his life.

But now that Sam was older, John became even more distant. No matter how hard Sam tried, he would still leave. Dean couldn’t stop obeying his orders, but sometimes he wished he could. Maybe he and Sam needed to break away from their father the same way their father needed to break away from his long dead wife.

***

Dean never thought, the way their visit had began, that he’d have as much fun as he did. Through the years he and Sam had had plenty of fun brother times, but never so many in a row. Every day they played games and swam laps, cooked terrible food, and watched the stars. And after that first night, Sam followed Dean into the single bedroom each night. Neither one said anything about it, but they got into bed together each night, and inevitably ended up curled around each other. The first time Dean woke up to Sam’s giant arms wrapped around him he panicked a little, but soon grew to enjoy it. He’d spent so many years protecting Sam, both during the day and the night, that it felt wrong for Sam to symbolically protect him. But he couldn’t deny how much he enjoyed the warmth and love that accompanied Sam’s arms. It was during these times that he could barely separate his baby brother Sammy from his grown brother Sam.

***

About two weeks in, Dean’s phone woke them early in the morning. It was still cold out, and the boys were plastered to each other. He would have just ignored it, fallen back to sleep with Sam, but he knew how angry dad would be if he had called and Dean didn’t answer. It was the same reason he kept his phone charged up even though they were in the middle of nowhere.

Dean opened his phone, silencing it, and glanced over at his brother before quietly answering, “Hello?” Sam was still asleep, with his arm around Dean’s hips and his legs tangled up with Dean’s. But Dean’s next word had Sam’s eyes opening wide. “Dad?” It was probably a good thing he’d answered his phone, then.

“What?” Sam whispered at Dean, eyes wide in shock.

Dean shushed him, trying to concentrate on his dad. But his next words weren’t good ones. “We have to stay here for an extra month?” Dean couldn’t help noticing Sam tense next to him, “Where are you? Are you ok?...yeah, sure…wait, dad, do you wanna talk to Sammy? He’s…ok, bye. Keep – safe,” he said to an empty line. Dean looked over at Sam, predicting his face before he actually saw it.

“What the hell Dean! What did dad say?” Sam was, understandably, furious, and now sitting up, no longer touching Dean.

“Dad’s hunting something bad, Sammy. He wants us to stay safe.”

“Bull shit! He doesn’t care about us at all!” Sam yelled into Dean’s face, and stormed out of the room.

Dean half-heartedly called after him, but Sam was gone, out to the woods, probably. Dean put his face in his hands. Why did dad have to do this? He knew how much Sam still looked up to him, how much it broke Sam’s heart when John left them yet again. Despite Sam’s admissions of hate, Dean knew Sam loved their father very much. But he couldn’t keep treating them like this.

He grabbed his phone and dialed John back, waiting impatiently for him to answer. But all he heard was a voicemail. For half a second Dean felt like he had to do something: punch a wall, smash his phone, break into sobs.

Then instead he got out of bed and walked to the kitchen to look for something to eat.

***

Dean gave Sam two hours before he went looking for him. It didn’t take long to find his brother sitting near the top of the overlook, faced away from the lake. He was sitting leaned against a stray boulder with his hands clenched in the grasses below him.

Sam didn’t acknowledge Dean’s presence until he sat down right next to him, with their knees touching.

“You don’t have anything to say to me, Dean,” Sam said defiantly, “Don’t tell me any of that shit about how dad cares about us and is protecting us.” His voice gained volume as he continued. “He does this to us all the time! Why can’t he just face up to the fact that he ruined his sons’ lives? He doesn’t deserve to be a dad. He’s worthless at it.”

Dean didn’t say anything, just turned his gaze downwards. He saw Sam’s hand clenched in the dirt and put his own hand over Sam’s. Sam quieted and they sat together for some time, with Dean’s thumb gently rubbing the back of Sam’s palm. Dean couldn’t think of any other way to comfort his brother. He couldn’t tell him that he was beginning to feel exactly the same, because he knew it was wrong.

The best Dean could offer Sam was silent assurance.

Then Dean was struck by the thought that Sam was worried Dean would do to him what John had done to the two of them, and leave him. But Dean would never do that. He’d never leave his brother alone, not while he was baby, nor a 15 year old teenager; not even as 30 year old adult. He would always be there for Sam.

He had to let his brother know that no matter what Sam said or did, Dean would always be on Sam’s side. Even if there weren’t exactly sides in this, Dean was on Sam’s. Forever.

Dean squeezed Sam’s hand slightly, and said, “I’m always going to be here for you, Sammy. Always.” Dean caught a small smile on Sam’s face; then it was all he could see. And then Sam was kissing him on the mouth.

For a second he was in shock, but then he was kissing Sam back just as fiercely, pouring his love into it, before he came to his senses and pulled away. “Sammy! Wha- what are you doing?” he stuttered out.

If he didn’t know any better he could have sworn Sam looked hurt. “Please, Dean,” he said, and grabbed at Dean’s shirt, pulling his mouth back into kissing distance. Dean looked up at his brother’s eyes, and before he knew what he was doing, he kissed Sam again with an open mouth. He had to get rid of that look in Sam’s eyes.

The next time he looked back into those eyes they were full of lust. He went right back to Sam’s mouth, but he couldn’t help thinking this was wrong. He couldn’t kiss his little brother. He especially couldn’t get a hard on from it and want more.

But suddenly he didn’t care. He didn’t know whether it was out of rebellion to his dad or lust for himself or just the desire to make Sam happy. He couldn’t stop. And Sam didn’t want to stop either. His brother was fierce, pawing at Dean’s back with his hands and Dean’s mouth with his tongue.

Dean moaned into Sam’s mouth when he felt a hand on his crotch. It had been a while since he’d gotten off from something other than his own hand. He shifted so Sam was almost in his lap and reached for Sam’s pants. They stayed like that, mouths glued together, hands on each other’s cocks, slightly rocking into it, until both had come, seconds apart, into their shorts.

Sam fell against Dean’s chest faintly panting. Dean leaned back against the rock and wrapped his arms around his brother, resting his chin on Sam’s head. One of Sam’s legs was twisted up in his own. He wasn’t quite sure what had just happened, but he liked it.

And then Sam surprised him again by being the first to talk.

“Dean?”

Dean smiled into Sam’s hair before he spoke. “Sammy?”

“I’ve never don’t that before. Was it ok?”

Dean smiled even bigger. “It was great, Sammy.”

“But – is it ok that we did that?” Dean couldn’t miss the hopeful tone in his voice. He didn’t say anything, waiting for Sam to say more. “Cause I – I’ve wanted to for a long time.”

Now Dean had to pull Sam’s head up to look into his face. “Really? Why me? I mean I’m your brother,” _and I’m not worth anything_ he thought, but didn’t say. “You actually _wanted_ to commit incest?”

“Dean, you’re the only one I’ve ever liked.”

“But we’re brothers. It’s not right, Sam.”

Sam looked down with a small frown.

“But fuck it,” and there was Sam’s smile again, “why not?” Dean said, and reached back for Sam’s mouth.

They kissed happily for a few minutes. Dean hadn’t completely wrapped his mind around the fact that it was Sam, his brother, but he honestly didn’t care anymore. They were happy and that’s all that mattered.

Just when Dean thought his dick might be interested in another go, Sam stopped.

“Dean? You wanna go swim?”

“Now?”

“My shorts are all sticky.” Sam said sheepishly. And, yeah, now that he thought about it, Dean’s entire crotch area was a sticky mess.

“Hmm, maybe you’re right. I’ll race ya!” Dean yelled as he jumped up and pulled Sam with him. He gave Sam a brief kiss and then took off down towards the lake, with Sam hot on his heels. At the dock they each tore off their clothes and jumped into the warm lake. Dean was pretty sure he swallowed a bunch of the water, but he couldn’t tell because his tongue was back in Sam’s mouth, which tasted like peanut butter and candy.

They got each other off in the lake too, thrusting against each other’s wet naked bodies. A few times they toppled over, and ended up kissing underwater. It was worth the coughing fit.

***

Later, Sam and Dean were sitting at the tiny table, eating spray cheese on crackers. They weren’t really talking about what had happened, just joking around about stupid stuff.

“Remember the motorcycle?” Dean said, with his mouth full of cheese.

“That was so ugly! And dad didn’t believe us?”

About five years ago John had found a used motorcycle for dirt cheap and asked Bobby to fix it up for him. Dean remembered being at Bobby’s for two weeks while Bobby tried but failed to make it start. John was absolutely insistent, thinking it could be useful. Dean didn’t understand; he wasn’t old enough to legally drive, and what were he and Sam supposed to do then? Sam and Dean had a blast during those two weeks. They learned the ins and outs of every single one of the junkers in Bobby’s yard.

Finally, John admitted defeat and they left, back to jump from motel room to motel room. Summers were always the worst. Dean was pretty sure Bobby had just pretended to be unable to fix the motorcycle so Sam and Dean could have two weeks of fun. He loved them as a father should, always taking them out for ice cream or playing catch. Besides, Bobby was a mechanical wizard; he could fix anything.

Suddenly Dean realized Sam was talking. “What?”

“I said, can we…I mean, if you want…we don’t have to but…” Sam’s cheeks were slightly red and Dean could tell he was nervous. He had a feeling he knew what Sam was going to ask, but he wanted to hear it from him. He wasn’t sure if they were prepared to take the next step.

“Yes…” Dean probed, causing Sam to swallow audibly.

“I mean, do you think we could…fuck?” he barely whispered. “Not if you don’t want but I know you have before with guys and I thought maybe you’d want to with me but if not that’s okay really.”

Shit. Sam could sure panic when he wanted to. It was a good thing this didn’t happen when they were hunting. “Sammy,” Dean said, putting his hand on Sam’s arm, “are you sure you want to? I mean, have you ever before, with a girl?”

He was pretty sure of Sam’s answer, but it still surprised him. “No. I’ve only ever kissed one girl,” he said, looking down.

“That’s fine Sammy. Normal even.”

“Not for you. You’ve slept with lots of people.”

Dean suddenly regretted all the nights he’d left Sam alone with dad to go fuck someone. Hell, he’d been fucking girls and guys both for almost 6 years. It didn’t make him feel better in the long run, but a few hours with a chick would make life at least a little easier. Now, though, he was boning up just thinking about fucking his little brother, but it seemed different. Sam wasn’t going to leave in the morning. Sam wouldn’t be a hazy drunken memory. Sam would be his forever. And he couldn’t think of any reason not to have sex with him.

Realizing Sam was still looking sad, Dean took Sam’s face into his hands. “You tell me if any of this is too much, okay?”

“Yes, Dean,” Sam said, and leaned forward, erasing the distance between them. They lips met with a crash and already it felt completely normal to be kissing Sam.

They were both sitting in chairs, but in one swift movement, Dean stood and pulled Sam with him, settling his hands under Sam’s ass. Sam wrapped his impossibly long legs around Dean’s hips, and it was almost like when Sam was a child. Only Dean had never felt a hard on poking into his stomach. The thought had his own cock straining, trying to nuzzle under Sam.

Dean carried Sam to the bedroom while Sam kissed and licked at his face. He deposited Sam on the bed and then quickly shed his clothes. After their impromptu swim, both boys had put on t-shirts and boxers. It was easy to reverse the process. After stripping himself, he turned to Sam. He was sitting on the bed, with his shirt over his head, and then tossed on the ground. His hard cock was obscenely strained against his boxers. As he reached for them, Dean growled and pushed Sam’s hand away. He wanted the pleasure of doing this himself.

Dean gently pressed Sam back into the mattress, and then kissed his way down Sam’s chest. He couldn’t help pausing at each nipple, sucking briefly before moving on. Each press of his mouth elicited a whimper from Sam, and they only served to increase Dean’s anticipation.

Finally he arrived at Sam’s boxers. He hooked his thumbs into the cotton and slowly pulled them up and over Sam’s straining dick. Suddenly he was up close to his brother’s cock. That giant cock, red and leaking. Dean couldn’t believe Sam had never fucked anyone before. He almost felt proud that he was Sam’s first. But he’d have to think on that later. His own cock was getting impatient.

But he couldn’t leave Sam’s beautiful dick untouched. It was a travesty. He slowly licked from the base up to the head before sucking on the entire head. Sam went wild. “Dean. Fuck. Fuck,” he stuttered. Sam’s cock was giant in his mouth, and Dean looked forward to many leisurely blowjobs. But not now. He pulled his mouth off with a slick sound, and moved further down Sam’s body. His balls received several kisses, as did his perineum.

Dean wasn’t sure why he was going through all this, taking his time. Usually he just went for it, a quick fuck. Especially with a guy. Sure, he loved anal as much as the next guy. But most guys were all about the actual sex, the penetration. They weren’t interested in lingering awkwardness. But this was Sam. He couldn’t let it be quick. He wanted to take his time, show Sam how great it could be. He wanted it to be something to remember, both for Sam and himself.

Dean moved down to Sam’s hole, pulling on his ass slightly to give himself more access, and licked experimentally. Sam cried out and raised his legs to give Dean better access. Despite his size, Sam’s hole was impossibly tight. Dean fucked his tongue in, stretching it. He knew he had lube somewhere, but he wasn’t interested at the moment. But then he remembered this was Sam’s first time. He let go of Sam’s hips and sat up. “Gotta get the lube man.”

One thing that had always stuck in Dean’s mind was dad’s lecture on using condoms, and Dean had never once gone without. Neither had any of the guys he’s been with. He figured it was time to forget that rule. This was his brother. He wanted it to be pure skin on skin.

It was always impossible to find things when he was impatient, but finally the tube was in his hands. He squirted some onto his hand and unceremoniously stuck a finger up Sam’s ass. God, his insides were so hot and tight. Dean’s dick was leaking now in anticipation. Sam didn’t shut up, moaning filthily as Dean added a second and then third finger.

Dean knew nothing could really prepare you for having a giant dick in your ass, and Sam was probably as ready as he could be. He went to squirt more lube on his hands to grease up his rock hard cock, but Sam grabbed it from him. “Sammy, you need-“

“Let me do it.” And he did. Dean had had Sam’s hands on his cock twice already today, but this was different. There weren’t any shorts in the way, and they weren’t in 5 foot deep water. Sam’s hands were perfect.

“Yeah, Sam. Perfect.” But Dean didn’t want to come right here. He moved back to his knees and considered his brother. “Turn over, Sammy,” and Sam was more than willing to comply. He put his face in a pillow and stuck his ass in the air, lube shining from his hole.

Dean swallowed. This was it. He gently rubbed his cock over Sam’s hole, straining with self-control. “You ready Sammy?”

“Fucking go for it!” And Dean didn’t need any more encouragement.

He pushed his cock slowly into Sam. Already the sight had him close. He briefly closed his eyes and pushed farther in. Sam groaned slightly, and Dean rubbed his left hand along Sam’s lower back. “That’s it, Sammy. Real good.” He glanced down, surprised to see he was almost completely in.

He moved back, experimentally, and then thrust back in. Sam moaned again, so he knew it couldn’t be too bad.

And so Dean was fucking his brother. He watched his dick move into Sam’s ass and couldn’t help muttering about how beautiful Sam was. He tried angling his hips a bit and found that one spot that drove Sam wild. Dean knew he wasn’t going to last, what with Sam’s tight heat and the amazing visual, so he increased his speed, hitting the spot with each thrust. He also reached around Sam’s hips and grabbed Sam’s dick.

Sam was muttering incoherently into the pillow and it only took a few strokes for Dean’s hand to be covered in hot slick come. And then that beautiful ass was clenching around Dean’s cock and he couldn’t take it anymore. He came as well, hard, into his brother, and collapsed on the bed behind Sam.

The sheets were a mess, but he had a feeling that was going to be a normal thing with them. They’d have to buy an extra set next trip to town.

After his breathing had calmed, Dean slowly pulled himself out of Sam, and wrapped his arm around Sam’s waist, pulling his body closer to his own. “You were beautiful, Sammy. Beautiful,” he whispered into his brother’s ear, as he fell into sleep.

Right before he went under he heard Sam. “So are you.”

***

Dean woke the next morning to Sam curled around his back, just like normal. But this time he woke up because Sam was kissing his neck.

And just like that, they went from being brothers to ‘brothers with benefits,’ so to speak. It was just like the first two weeks, full of fun and games, but with sex included. Dean’s longest relationship had lasted two days; he always assumed he’d hate any kind of commitment. But just like the taboo on foreplay, this rule went right out the window. He never knew how great it could be. He suspected it had more to do with Sam than anything. And, if he really thought about it, there wasn’t anyone else he’d ever want to have a long-term relationship with. He couldn’t tell anyone about the hunting and the monsters. The only person he could talk about it with was Sam.

And they were by themselves and happy. The number of times that had happened in their life was low; why not enjoy it?

***

They took to fucking on the armchairs. It really did get cold at night, and sheets covered in cold wet come were not fun. They fucked outside sometimes too. The thrill was exciting at first, but Dean knew the chances of seeing another person were practically less than zero. Only dad knew the cabin was still there, and Dean knew he wouldn’t be showing up any time soon. So they lay in the sunshine, licking and rubbing at each other, basking in the light. At night they gave blowjobs, which were less messy. Sam was especially good at swallowing all the come Dean’s cock could shoot out. Sometimes they used kleenex to clean up, and once, ridiculously, Sam wore a condom while Dean fucked him, also in a condom. It did, admittedly, minimize the mess, though both missed the skin contact.

But the best times, which Dean would never admit to anyone, were after the orgasms, after they’d kissed for a few minutes, after they’d settled under the covers for sleep. Sam still curled around Dean, but now it was much closer and more intimate. Sam was a warm solid mass at Dean’s back, and his giant arms wrapped around Dean’s waist. Their fingers intertwined, and just when he was about to fall asleep, too tired to stop himself, Sam would whisper stupid girly things to Dean.

In the dark it was much easier to admit to himself how much he loved Sam, how much he loved this new thing between them. Dean always fell asleep with a smile on his face.

***

After the phone call from dad, Dean kept his phone near him most of the time, just in case he called again. He didn’t really expect it, and after a few weeks, he usually just left it in the bedroom.

One night Sam and Dean walked out to the overlook to look at the stars and snuggle. They came back horny (really, when _weren’t_ they), but neither wanted to mess up the sheets. It was almost the middle of August, and the nights were becoming colder. Dean knew they’d have to talk about school sooner or later, but dad’s month wasn’t up yet, and Dean didn’t want to bring it up with Sam.

They fucked on an armchair, instead. It took a few times, but they had found the best position, with Dean sitting, and Sam riding him. It also allowed the best access to Sam’s mouth. Dean loved kissing him while they were fucking.

They were still wearing their shirts. But after they’d both come, and were about to go to bed, Dean pulled Sam back to his lap.

“Wanna lick you out, Sam.” Dean said, tugging at Sam’s shirt.

“Fuck.” Sam pulled his shirt off for Dean, wiping off the rest of his come, and then followed Dean’s motions, as he pushed his back down onto the rug.

Dean almost wanted to start a fire, because it was freezing, but he was too impatient. He crouched down at Sam’s legs, then pulled them apart as he lifted Sam’s ass slightly. He could see his come leaking out of Sam’s hole and immediately licked it up. Sam moaned, and his limp cock gave a little twitch. Dean settled into a more comfortable position, and went to work licking up the come trickling out of his brother.

Before long Sam’s ass was entirely clean. But now his dick was leaking. And Dean couldn’t leave it alone. Dragging his thumbs out of Sam’s crack, and up along his thighs, Dean put his mouth over Sam’s now hard cock. Sam’s legs lengthened back against the floor and his back arched up slightly. Dean kept up a steady rhythm, sucking brutally as far down as he could go. His own dick was now hard, and so he jacked it in time with his mouth. With his left hand Dean tugged at Sam’s balls, and after a whimper from Sam, he was swallowing down warm come.

“So fucking hot, Dean. Your filthy mouth,” Sam panted, and looked down at his brother, who had a small trail of come escaping from his lips.

Hearing those dirty words coming from Sam’s mouth was enough to push Dean over the edge as well. As he was settling down from his orgasm, Sam sat up and pulled Dean’s hand into his mouth. Dean almost fell backwards himself as he felt Sam lick his hand clean. For the thousandth time, he wondered why he’d never done anything like this before. After Sam finished with his hand, he licked up the come that had escaped Dean’s mouth. Dean then kissed him, softly, and they stood up, ready to curl up in bed and sleep.

In the bedroom, as Sam was finding clean clothes to wear to bed, Dean checked his phone out of habit. He never expected to see anything there, so he almost didn’t notice the small icon indicating a missed voicemail. He did a double take and checked again. Sure enough, there was a voicemail. He checked the call log and with a sinking feeling saw that he’d missed a call from his dad no more than ten minutes ago.

Dean anticipated what he’d hear in the message. Dad was sure to have yelled at him for not answering his phone. There was probably some real reason he’d called as well, but it wouldn’t be important, not when John could rag on his son for something. Dean suddenly decided he wasn’t going to listen to the message tonight. If he heard it now, he’d never be able to sleep. He decided to wait until morning to bring back the usual feelings of anger. Right now he just wanted to sleep with his brother.

He set the phone back on the small table and turned to Sam, who was just getting into bed.

“Any messages?” Sam asked, clicking off his flashlight and tossing it back on the ground. Sometimes the no electricity thing really sucked.

“Nope.” Dean said, kissed Sam lightly on the nose (god help him), and turned to his side. As he played with Sam’s fingers and fell into sleep, all thoughts of his dad left and only thoughts of his brother remained.

***

It wasn’t until the middle of the day that Dean remembered about dad’s message. The morning had been spent trying to race across the lake. They kept getting distracted by each other. When they got back they starting making a giant ridiculous lunch of sardines, pretzels, and some squeezy cheese. It was when Dean went into the bedroom to change into a dry shirt that he saw his phone and remembered.

He walked over to the door; he could hear Sam in the kitchen and it didn’t sound like he was going to move any time soon. Dean shut the door quietly and sat on his side of the bed with the phone in his hands. Sighing, he dialed his voicemail and put the phone to his ear. He entered his PIN when prompted, and heard the voice recite that he had one missed voicemail, left at 11:34pm the night before.

Dean audibly gasped when he heard the message.

***

Dean didn’t move until Sam was suddenly there, yelling in his face until he responded. “Dean. Dean! What are you doing?”

Dean’s mind had gone completely blank. He had no idea how long he’d been out of it. “Sorry, Sammy,” he said absentmindedly.

“What happened, Dean? You’ve been in here for like 15 minutes!”

“Sammy. Sammy,” Dean said, voice cracking. Sam looked incredibly alarmed.

“Is there a message?” Sam asked, looking at the phone clutched in Dean’s hand.

For some reason that triggered Dean into action. He didn’t say anything, but hit a few buttons on his phone and let the message play again out the tinny speakers.

John’s voice could be heard, sounding very far away. “Dean. I – I guess I missed you. I don’t think I’m going to make it, son. Damn thing trapped me and I don’t think there’s any -,” there was a long silence and then John spoke again, almost in a whisper, “Tell Sammy I love him. You too. I wish I could be there for you boys. Find the thing that killed Mary, Dean. You’re our only chance. I left a – ahhhhh,” John’s voice continued in a scream, getting louder, when it stopped abruptly, and a loud wet scraping sound followed. After a second of silence, distinct chewing could be heard, along with cracking, almost like the sound when you step on dry sticks. This went on for about a minute. Presumably the call ended because the maximum message length had been reached. No one had been there to end the call.

Dean had already listened to the message twice, but it wasn’t any easier the third time around. Sam, though, sat down heavily on the bed as soon as he heard dad’s voice, and looked frantically from the phone to Dean throughout the message. When it ended, he looked at Dean, like he expected him to fix everything.

Dean didn’t have anything to say and so they stared at each other for a few seconds, dumbly shocked.

“What the hell, Dean?” Sam asked in a low voice. Dean merely shook his head. “What happened? Is he – “

“Don’t say it, Sammy,” Dean said, cutting him off.

“We have to do something!”

“What? You heard it. He’s, he’s…” Dean trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

“What about Bobby?” Sam asked. “We should call him. He might know something.”

Dean didn’t quite understand, but when Sam grabbed the phone from his hands, he got it. “Yeah. Call Bobby.”

Sam found Bobby’s number in the cell phone and dialed it. Dean watched his face screw up in concentration, followed by relief at hearing Bobby answer.

“Bobby? It’s Sam. Did you…yeah he called Dean but we missed it…sounded like, like, chewing…yeah, course…Idaho? Phil’s old cabin…we will…thanks, Bobby…I know…bye.”

“What’d he say?” Dean asked the second Sam ended the call.

“We gotta go to Sioux Falls. Bobby wants us to come.”

“What about dad?” Dean asked sharply.

“He said he talked to Dave who I guess was with dad yesterday but hadn’t seen him since then and he was worried. And Bobby sent him to check it out. He wanted to call us but didn’t know the new number, cause you just got that phone right before we came here, remember?”

Dean could tell Sam was starting to ramble, starting to lose it, but he was so numb he couldn’t bring himself to care. Sam stood up and starting throwing things into his bag. “Come on, Dean, it’s gonna take like 15 hours to get there.” Sam continued to pick up shirts and socks, but suddenly stopped and broke into tears. “Dad, he’s – he’s dead, Dean. He’s gone!” Sam sat heavy on the bed next to Dean, who finally got with it and put his arms around his brother. He didn’t say anything, didn’t know what to say, but Sam calmed down after a few minutes, and within 15 they were on the road, headed to South Dakota.

***

The ride was quiet. Dean didn’t really think about anything; he couldn’t believe his dad was (almost probably definitely) dead. Better not to think about it. He blasted Metallica and hoped Sam wouldn’t say anything.

But just after their third gas station, near midnight, Sam broke the no-talking rule.

“Dean,” Sam said, abruptly, “when did dad call? How did Bobby already know about it?”

Dean had been dreading this conversation. “Um…I don’t know. Guess he’s just fast.”

“But when did dad call?” Sam implored. When Dean didn’t answer, Sam grabbed at Dean’s jacket pockets.

“What the hell, man?” Dean shouted, pushing Sam’s hands away, causing the car to swerve dangerously close to the edge of the road.

“Tell me, or I’m going to get the phone and find out for myself.”

Dean knew Sam was insistent enough to figure out the truth regardless of what Dean said, so he sighed and told Sam.

“Last night?” Sam yelled at Dean, understandably furious. “Why didn’t you tell me until this afternoon? Were you trying to like spare my feelings or some shit?”

“What? No!” Dean yelled back, defensively. “Look, Sam, I saw that he called last night, but I didn’t listen to the message until today.”

“Why not? We gotta be there for every beck and call from him, right?” Sam said, tauntingly. It didn’t make Dean feel any better.

“I’m sorry, Sammy. I just didn’t want another lecture.” Dean wasn’t sure what else to say. He knew he’d fucked up big time. “I mean, would it have made a difference?”

“We could’ve called back! Maybe he would have answered!”

“Sam you heard it, clear and plain. Something was _eating_ him.” Now that he’d said it, out in the open, there was no denying it. “And I tried calling back anyways. It just rang and rang.”

Finally Sam was quiet. They’d be at Bobby’s soon, and maybe he’d have some sort of news. For now Dean tried to focus on the road, and hope the dark was hiding the tears slowing dripping down his face.

***

Bobby hugged them both when they got to his house. He didn’t really have any more information, though Dean pressed him. As far as he could tell, dad had been after some big bad monster. Dave had been in the area and John had called him for help. Dave warned John not to go after it alone, but he obviously didn’t listen. When Dave hadn’t heard from John, he’d called Bobby. Dave was currently trying to find John.

“But what was he after, Bobby?” Dean asked, desperately. He needed to put a name to the thing that had killed his dad.”

“Something real rare. Called a surogou. Something like third cousins with vampires. Only they’re real fond of eating folks’ lungs.” With a start Dean realized that was what he’d heard on the phone. That monster was breaking his dad’s ribs and eating his fucking _lungs_. “They can be killed same way at vampires though.”

“Cut of its head?”

“Yup. One clean cut will put it down. But they’re fantastic trackers. That’s why Dave told your dad not to hunt it alone. Two different tracks can sometimes confuse it. The only reason I told Dave to go look for John by himself is that once a surogou feeds, it goes into a deep sleep for a few days. Should be safe enough.” Dean didn’t know how Bobby could retain all the knowledge he did. As a kid he remembered being fascinated by Bobby’s unlimited knowledge. Now he supposed he was taking it for granted.

“We gotta go help him.” Dean said, jumping up.

Bobby put his hand on Dean’s shoulder and gently pushed him back down. “You need your rest, boy. It’s another day’s drive at least. Look at your brother – he fell asleep almost the second you got here!” Sam was indeed snoring quietly on the couch, feet still stubbornly on the floor.

Dean knew Bobby was right. There was nothing they could do now. And it was the middle of the night. He walked over to Sam, and kicked at his legs until he woke up. “Come on, Sam. Let’s get you upstairs.” Sam mumbled a ‘good night’ to Bobby, and headed up the stairs.

Dean looked back at Bobby. “I’m real sorry boy. Damn sorry,” he said, gripping Dean’s arm in his hand. Dean suddenly found he couldn’t say anything, so he just nodded. But Bobby understood.

***

Dean was dreaming. He was back at the lake teaching Sam to swim, but Sam was 15 and Dean was only 9. Sam still couldn’t swim and each time he tried, Dean had to pull him up and slap his back, and then he would kiss him lightly on the mouth. It was hard for him to maneuver his now much larger brother. And all Sam would say was, ‘you’re the only person I’ve ever liked Dean. You’re the only person I’ve ever liked.’ And then dad was there, drunk, shooting into the water. Dean tried to protect Sam from the bullets, but he got hit and sank beneath the water and Dean was powerless to lift him out. He yelled out at John but he suddenly turned into a monster with small bones sticking out of its mouth and it roared at Dean and he started screaming and then he was awake, yelling, and Sam was gripping his shoulder, telling him to calm down.

Bobby’s guest room had two double beds, but they’d gotten into the same one last night out of habit.

“Am I really the only person you’ve ever liked?” Dean said to Sam, as soon as his breathing calmed.

Sam’s green eyes grew larger as he took in Dean’s question. “Dean, what – “

“That’s what you told me the first time we fucked. Remember? Is it true?”

“Y-yeah,” he stammered.

“Do you know how fucked up that is?”

“Dean, I don’t-“

“It is. Completely fucked up. What the hell is wrong with us?” Dean wanted to be shouting, now, but he was conscious of the fact that they were in Bobby’s house. Bobby couldn’t know about this. He lowered his voice considerable, so that he was basically whispering. “Why did we start fucking in the first place? We’re _brothers_ for godsakes.” Dean couldn’t say anything more because he was shaking so badly.

Sam hadn’t said anything more, just stared at Dean in shock. They were still in the bed together, with legs touching under the covers. Then Sam gripped Dean’s wrist. “Dad didn’t die because of us, Dean,” he said in a low voice.

Dean pulled his arm away and spit back at Sam, “that is _not_ what this is about.” He disentangled his legs from Sam’s and got out of the bed, feet cold on the bare wood floor.

“Dean,” Sam pleaded, “please. I’m not mad at you about the phone call either. Just, just come back.”

But Dean couldn’t look at his brother without feeling disgust. He stormed out of the room without another word.

***

Dean spent the rest of the night on the couch downstairs, but he didn’t sleep. How could he have let himself fuck his brother? He was supposed to take care of him, and instead he’d ruined him. How messed up was it that the only person Sam had ever admired was his own brother? Dean had tried his best, but he’d failed. It was probably just as well that dad never found out. He’d probably leave them for good. Dean couldn’t handle that. Only now dad was gone for good as well.

Even though no one had gone to bed until 3am, Bobby came down the stairs at 8. He obviously didn’t get much sleep, but at least he’d gotten more than Dean. Bobby didn’t see Dean on the couch, and Dean didn’t announce his presence. He listened to Bobby make coffee in the kitchen and wash some dishes.

He missed the sounds of domesticity. It was different in motel rooms. For that reason Dean had always loved coming here. Other than the Impala, Bobby’s house was his only home. It was the only place he really felt safe. He remembered years of staying in that guest room with his brother, coming downstairs and eating home-cooked pancakes and listening to his dad and Bobby talk about normal things, like baseball and cars. Sure, they also discussed hunting, but Bobby made a point to not talk about it around Sam and Dean, despite John’s insistence that his boys learn the trade. Bobby always wanted them to be kids.

Dean snapped back to attention when he heard Bobby muttering. “Dammit, Dave.”

Dean knew that couldn’t be good. He sat up and walked into the kitchen. Bobby barely looked up. “Hey Bobby,” Dean said, looking down at him. Bobby was seated at the table with his chin in his hands, looking down at his phone. Dean pulled a chair out and sat down next to Bobby.

“That fool Dave isn’t answering his phone,” Bobby said, turning his gaze upwards to Dean’s face. “Not good, boy.”

“Do you think the surogou got him? I thought they needed time to rest.” Dean said, tensing up.

“They usually do. I don’t know what happened to Dave. There’s not much lore on these suckers. Maybe I’m missing something,” Bobby said, standing up. Dean automatically stood with him, wooden chair scratching on the already scuffed up floor. Bobby walked back to his desk, and leafed through the many papers littering the top. “I’m going to look back through this stuff. See what I can find.”

Dean suddenly felt like a third wheel. Or, rather, a second one. “Can I help?” Dean asked.

“You can read through this stuff, sure. See if I missed anything.” Great. Dean grabbed the stack of papers Bobby handed him and settled back down into the couch. He didn’t see how sitting and reading could help anything. Going and actually doing something would be the only help.

But then suddenly Dean had an idea. And for the next hour he read everything he could about surogous. He needed _some_ background information, after all.

***

By 9:30 Dean couldn’t stand sitting and reading any longer. “Hey, Bobby,” he asked, breaking the silence.

“What?” Bobby spit back.

“Where’d you say my dad was? Minnesota?”

“Michigan, you idjit.”

“Right, Michigan. That’s what I meant. But where?” Dean stood up and walked over to Bobby’s desk. Bobby didn’t look too happy, but he handed Dean a poorly refolded map. “Marked it on here when I talked to Dave. Smack dab middle of nowhere.”

Dean walked back to the kitchen table and spread the map open. Sure enough, there was an X in a state forest that was in the middle of a whole lot of nothing. Figures that’s where dad would go. Dean had no idea why a monster was even in such a small populated area, but it didn’t matter. He knew where to look.

And he had to look. Maybe his dad was still alive. Maybe. He just couldn’t give up on him. Dean would never be able to forgive himself if it turned out he could have done something. He knew Bobby and Sam wouldn’t agree with him though.

Just then he heard heavy footsteps on the stairs. Sam was finally awake. He gave Bobby a friendly ‘good morning,’ and then saw Dean in the kitchen. “Hey Dean,” he said, moving closer. Dean almost gave in and let Sam kiss him. But at the last second he backed away, painfully, into the stove.

“Fuck!” he let out, angry with himself. He looked back at Sam, who looked undeniably hurt. Dean hated himself for putting that look there. He knew he had to leave before he fell back into the trap of Sam and his gorgeous body. He pushed his thumb into his sore back. “Sam, I’m going to go find dad,” he said, almost whispering. He wasn’t sure yet whether he should tell Bobby or not.

“Dean! No!”

“He might still be alive.” Dean said, trying to make Sam understand.

“You know he’s not.”

“We need to be with him, Sammy. We’re family.”

“But what if you get hurt? I can’t lose you, Dean,” Sam said, reaching back out for his brother. Dean stepped backwards again, this time being sure to avoid any appliances.

“I’ll be fine.”

“This wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t made us stay apart from him.” Sam said, raising his voice.

“He knew what he was doing,” Dean replied, nervously tapping his fingers on the counter behind him. “There are always risks involved in our job. And wouldn’t mom want us to do this?”

“He doesn’t deserve to be with mom.”

Now Dean was really upset. “Don’t you say that, Sam,” he yelled back at Sam, Bobby forgotten. “Dad was a hero.”

“He was a coward!” Sam yelled. “He got what was coming to him!”

“What going on in there boys?” Bobby yelled from the other room. Neither one said anything, so Bobby came into the kitchen, still holding an old weathered book in his hands. “Boys?” he asked again.

“Dean says he’s going to find dad’s body.”

“Going to find _dad_.” Dean clarified. “Please come with me, Sammy,” he asked, imploringly, silently pleading with his brother. Sam stared back into Dean’s eyes with the opposite plead.

“Don’t be a fool, Dean. Dave’s got it covered.” Bobby said, trying to reason with him.

Dean looked back at Bobby. “You said Dave probably got caught!”

“I don’t want you getting caught either!”

“You’re not my dad! You can’t tell me what to do.” Dean yelled right into Bobby’s face. He instantly regretted it, but it shut him up. “I’m going to go get my father. Sammy?” Dean asked, trying one more time. But Sam was stubborn and looked down, breaking his eye contact with Dean. “Fine. You know how to reach me,” he said, and with a final glare to Sam, Dean left, before anyone could succeed in trying to convince him not to go.

***

Dean drove with the windows all the way down and the music all the way up. He didn’t want to hear his phone. He knew he was acting like a girl or something, but he couldn’t talk to Sam. He just couldn’t. Dad would have been furious at him for leaving Sam behind, but he’d tried his best to get Sam to come with him. Sam wasn’t interested.

Sure, he could just ignore his phone if Sam called, but it was better not knowing at all. If he knew he was ignoring a phone call he’d have to admit to himself that what he was doing was dangerous and stupid and reckless.

***

Dean made it to Michigan some 10 hours later. It was hard trying to find the forest in the dark, but he somehow managed it. There was a small five car parking lot just off the road, and Dean went to pull into the corner out of habit. His heart stopped when he saw the spot was occupied. By his dad’s truck. This, more than anything, made Dean realize that this was _real_. He threw the Impala into park and jumped out, remembering at the last second to grab his ax and a flashlight.

Dean ran into the woods, calling out John’s name. But after a minute he realized he was being foolish. He was a hunter, after all. Dad had raised him better than this. He stopped and took in his surroundings. The forest was mostly pines, with lots of large boulders strewn about. He couldn’t see very far in any one direction because the rocks were all taller than him; it was difficult to move in a straight line. Luckily, though, with all the pine trees, the forest floor was covered thickly with needles, and it was easy to mask his footsteps. He realized the flashlight wasn’t really necessary because the sky was clear and the moon was out, shedding long shadows everywhere.

Actually, if he stopped to think about it, the woods were quite beautiful. They reminded him of the countless nights over the past month that he and Sam had gone for a night walk.

_Sammy._

Now that Dean had calmed down slightly, he realized he still had no way of finding his dad. At this point his only plan was to walk every square inch of land. Maybe he should wait until morning. After all, it would be much easier to look in the daylight. He could be more thorough. Besides, dad said he was hiding. Dean wasn’t likely to find him in the dark.

With a heavy sigh, Dean turned around and headed back to his car. He actually felt a little better, now that he had a more defined plan. He shouldn’t have half-assed his way to Michigan, he saw that now, but at least he wasn’t going to wander around the woods with a monster on the loose. He couldn’t put his dad’s memory to shame. Maybe he could even get a hold of Dave and get help with his search. It was when he was pulling his phone out of his pocket to see if he had Dave’s number when he stopped.

And realized.

With a shout he dialed his dad’s number and listened. His entire body strained to hear any noise. And then, far off in the distance, he heard it. A ringtone. His dad’s phone. Dean ran towards the sound, stopping twice to redial. The sound got louder and louder until Dean thought his ear drums were rattling. But he didn’t see anything. There were the same boulders all around, emerging from the soft ground like blueberries rising from a muffin. He turned his flashlight on each of them, trying hard to find something recognizable.

Then the light caught something shiny. He quickly backtracked, and saw it was hitting a shiny metal belt. And Dean realized what he had mistook for leaves and twigs were actually, on closer inspection, the remains of his father. He knelt down, suddenly choking back a sob, and found the phone a little to the right of the body, hidden partially under a small rock. He pressed the END button, expecting the woods to once again return to silence.

But there was a snarling sound alarmingly close to his face. Dean turned abruptly, and was face to face with the surogou.

His hunting instinct kicked in, and he jumped up and to the right, trying to catch the monster off guard. But Dean couldn’t control his anger. “You killed my dad, you bastard!” he yelled into its face, throwing a punch at its chest. Dean forgot he had an ax with which to chop off the monster’s head. He wanted the creature to suffer. He used all his fight training, everything his dad had taught him. Unfortunately, the surogou was a bit better off in the fighting department. Within seconds Dean found himself flat on the ground, held down by the monster’s feet. It snarled again, and Dean felt some of its spit hit his cheek. Dean tried his best to fight the monster off him, but he was stuck merely yelling at it. The ax had fallen from his hands just out of reach.

The surogou traced its claws down Dean’s front, slowly, with what looked like a smile on its face. Dean closed his eyes when it raised its arm, sure it was about to slash through his chest. “I’m sorry, Sammy,” he whispered, mostly to himself. He knew his death would be painful, but, judging from dad’s phone call, it would be short. He clenched his eyes tighter, waiting for the sharp pain, but there was a yell and then a heavy weight hit his stomach. He forced his eyes back open and was shocked to see a man standing where the surogou had been. At the same time he realized there was a monster head on his chest.

He yelped and jerked aside, letting the bloody head fall to the ground. A chuckle came from above him, and he turned his attention back to the man. He was tall, taller than Sam even, and holding Dean’s discarded ax. His clothes were muddy and torn, and he looked a bit ragged. But a grin was on his face. “That’s for John Winchester, you son of a bitch,” he practically snarled, kicking the body of the surogou.

“Are you Dave?” Dean asked, struggling to his feet.

The man looked back at Dean and stuck his hand out. “Yup. You must be John’s boy, am I right?”

“Yes,” Dean said, shaking the man’s filthy hand. “Dean. Thanks for that,” he said, gesturing at the monster’s body.

“What were you doing out here by yourself? Could’ve got killed. Damn lucky I was tracking the thing. I’ve been in these woods for almost two days. Had to hide from that ugly motherfucker.”

“Why didn’t you answer your phone when Bobby called?”

“Aww, left it in my car. Couldn’t risk that thing hearing it. Didn’t think I’d get stuck. Now I need a nice hot shower. Fuck.” Dean didn’t much like this guy; he’d only heard about him once or twice from his dad.

Dave starting walking back towards the parking lot, but Dean shouted out and stopped him. “What about my dad?”

“Well, I found him,” he said, pointing towards the body. “Surogou got him. Damn shame.” Dave said dismissively.

“What about his body?” Dean asked, voice trying desperately to stay calm.

“Wouldn’t worry about it. Buzzards will get what’s left.”

Despite the continued conversation, Dave had kept walking, so Dean had to shout to be heard. “Fuck you! It’s my _dad_!”

“Don’t thank me for saving your ass then.” Dave yelled back, and that was the last Dean saw of him.

Dean was shaking from anger. He couldn’t believe the disregard Dave had shown his dad. _Why’d he even come out here looking for him,_ Dean thought, as he turned back to his dad.

Without thinking about it, he suddenly realized he’d wanted to bury his dad back in Kansas with his mom. But one look at the remains told him that wasn’t going to happen.

Dean knew his heart was beating much faster than normal, but he couldn’t calm down. He turned, helplessly, in a circle, before pulling out his phone and calling Bobby. He anxiously tapped his fingers against his thigh until Bobby answered.

***

A few hours later, as the sun was starting to think about coming up, Dean was standing over a blazing fire. He’d talked to Bobby, practically cried to him, actually, and they’d agreed it was best to dig a hole and burn John’s remains there. It was the only practical solution. It wasn’t even about the mess; Dean would have gladly covered the Impala’s backseat with blood and guts, if it meant he could bury his dad in Kansas. But he had no way of carrying all those parts to his car. And, quite frankly, it was beginning to smell, and he knew it wouldn’t be long before the flies descended.

It had been hard enough digging the hole by himself, but that was nothing compared to pushing what remained of his father into that hole. Dean could barely recognize it as a person, let alone his dad. The surogou had sure been thorough.

The monster, by the way, had been dragged behind a boulder out of sight. Dean may or may not have kicked its head off into the distance.

While staring at his father’s burning body in the shallow grave, though, Dean knew he couldn’t leave just yet. He needed to save John’s ashes. Something had to go back to Mary’s grave.

But more troubling was the fact that when he’d called Bobby, Sam had refused to talk to him. He wasn’t sure if it was because Dean had gone off to find dad or because Dean had left him, broken up with him in the only way he possibly could. He supposed it didn’t really matter. The separation would be good for Sam. It didn’t matter how Dean felt about it.

***

Dean kept watch over the pyre until the sun went down again, leaving only to find an old jar in the Impala. Down in the dirt and smoke of the makeshift grave he filled the jar full of his dad’s ashes. He almost couldn’t climb out, taking three tries before he finally worked up enough strength to heave himself out of the hole. He filled the dirt back into the hole, and left a single stick stuck in deep as a marker.

He wanted to drive to Kansas right away, but exhaustion soon took over. Dean pulled into the first motel he saw, ignored the stares of the owner, and fell into bed, his dreams full of dirt and ashes. When he woke in the morning, arms clutched around dad’s jar, the sheets were almost as dirty as he was. He forced himself to shower and eat briefly before getting back into his car and heading south to Lawrence.

***

Dean made it to Kansas on adrenaline and Mountain Dew. After drinking most of the soda, he’d suddenly recalled what had happened with Sam and the soda cup. Dean then spent the next two hours trying not to think about his brother’s cock and ignoring his own painfully hard dick. It had only been four days since they’d last had sex, but it felt like a lifetime ago. And he supposed it was. They could never fuck again. Dean knew he’d let his dad down; he hadn’t taken care of Sam, but he was going to try his best to from now on.

It started with staying away from Sam. All Dean did was pull his brother down with him. He knew the best thing for Sam now was to live with Bobby, to go to only one high school instead of 7. Dean had to leave him to be a normal teenager. It was the only way Sam could be truly taken care of. And maybe what Dean had done could be erased; maybe he hadn’t completely ruined Sam. He had to hope Sam could still be a normal guy.

But as soon as Dean passed the ‘Welcome to Kansas’ sign, he knew he couldn’t do this without Sam. Sure, Sam was angry with the guy for most of his life, but he knew Sam loved their dad very much. He had to be there to bury his ashes. It would be the last time the three of them were together. But Dean couldn’t allow that thought to fully process. And so he went and did what he did best; found the first bar he could and got wasted.

***

The following morning Dean woke up with a massive hangover in someone’s bed. He knew, before opening his eyes, that it wasn’t his brother though; the smell was completely off. The girl, however, had hair remarkably similar to Sam’s, so much so that Dean snuck out without staying to figure out who she was. He felt terrible about it, but he couldn’t allow himself to be reminded of his brother any more than necessary.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw his car parked outside. _Dad will kill me if I lose her_ , he thought, before remembering. And fuck, what else was there to do but get drunk again? He’d lost his dad, and he’d ruined his brother. There was nothing for him but booze. And sex, once he was drunk enough to forget that sleeping with people who reminded him of Sam was a bad idea.

The next few weeks passed in a flurry of alcohol and sex. Bobby called a few times, but after the first awkward conversation, Dean didn’t pick up. It was easier to drink and forget. He drove aimlessly, stopping for his daily bar earlier and earlier in the day. He didn’t see the point of doing anything else. He didn’t even think about hunting.

But one morning he finally came to his senses. He’d woken up in a guy’s arms, and the guy had looked strikingly similar to Sam. This was nothing new; no matter where he went, Dean managed to wake up next to someone with floppy brown hair. While completely wasted he just couldn’t control himself. This morning, however, the other guy had woken before him, so he had to spend a few awkward moments talking, and maybe eat breakfast with him, before he could leave.

It was usually embarrassing to ask the other person’s name, but he’d gotten over that fairly quickly. Today, though, his heart stopped beating when the guy said his name was ‘Sam.’

“Did you say _Sam_?” Dean had to ask. He couldn’t believe himself.

“Yeah,” the guy said, running his fingers through his hair, “you kept calling me Sammy,” he added, smiling slightly at Dean.

And then suddenly Dean was sobbing, gross and messy, tears running down his chest. He haphazardly grabbed his clothes and pushed the guy out of the way, ignoring his yells, before stumbling outside. He made it to his car and just drove, completely naked, until the tears stopped. It took much longer for the shaking to leave.

***

This time, Dean called Bobby. He sounded almost surprised when he heard Dean’s voice, but Dean could tell he was glad to hear from him.

“How’s Sam?” Dean asked nervously, afraid to hear the answer.

“I think he’s liking the new school. Does homework a lot. But damn he misses you, boy. And he doesn’t talk a lot. Something happen with the two of you? Anytime I bring you up he changes the subject.”

“It’s – it’s nothing, Bobby,” Dean said quickly.

“Why don’t you come back here then? I agree it’s best for Sam to finish school up here, and I can’t pretend that I don’t love the boy dearly, but he should be with you. You’re the only family he’s got now.” Bobby’s voice was gruff with emotion, and Dean couldn’t imagine what he would think if he knew Dean had fucked his brother.

“I can’t.” Dean felt bad that he couldn’t offer a better explanation, but Bobby knew not to push.

“Well fine then. How are you?”

“What does it matter?”

“I’m glad to hear you seem to be in the same humor as Sam.” Bobby sighed audibly. “Where are you, at least?”

“Mississippi. I think.”

“Must be lovely this time of year. Say, I know of a hunt near you. You interested?” Dean was smart enough to know when he was being set up, but this was actually half of the reason he’d called. He let Bobby give him the details, which amounted to what sounded like an easy salt and burn.

“Be careful, Dean. And check in, ok? Never mind whatever’s going on with your brother. You call me,” Bobby said, and wouldn’t let Dean hang up until he promised to call.

***

The hunt ended up being a bit more complicated than Bobby thought, but Dean handled it just fine. And he knew this was what he needed to do; hunting things was all he was really good at. It was what dad raised him to do, and Dean would try his best to kill as many evil things as possible.

The next few months passed quickly. Sometimes Dean took cases from Bobby and sometimes he found them himself. He didn’t spend nearly as much time drinking and fucking, but there was still the occasional night or two. For money he hustled pool, like always, and it was easier without Sam grumbling about stealing from innocent people.

He did his best to keep Sam out of his head.

Dean kept his promise to Bobby and called at least once a week, but soon enough it seemed like all Bobby had to talk about was Sam. Sam’s crazy school project. His attempt to get Bobby to eat healthier. How Bobby was teaching him to work on cars. But never about a girlfriend. Or any friends, for that matter. Once, Dean asked, because he couldn’t stand not knowing, but all Bobby said was that Sam had never brought anyone over.

After those calls, Dean always dreamt about Sam. Sometimes it was a long forgotten memory, something from the long days of riding in the back of the Impala, counting license plates over and over. Other times they were back at the cabin, staring up at the stars, snuggled close together for warmth. The dreams were always mundane, just the two of them together, and each morning Dean woke up sadder than the day before. But he choked down the feeling by killing as many monsters as he could.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d spent even one night apart from Sam. His whole life had been Sam; making sure he ate, helping him with his homework, teaching him to tie his shoes. Even when he got older, Sam was still his responsibility. Now that he suddenly wasn’t, Dean felt lost. They were brothers for far longer than they’d been fucking, and Dean ached for it. He ached for the sex, as well, and over time he accepted that he was in love with his brother. He knew he’d never be able to forget it. The weeks of waking up in Sam-look-alike’s beds had taught him that. It was just something he’d have to push down, like he did with dad’s death. And mom’s. One day, he’d have to try and continue dad’s work, but not until he could be with Sam again. Because, he realized now, he had everything hinged on Sam getting over him. He had to hope that Sam was young enough to forget about wanting to fuck his brother and would find a nice girl. Dean could accept the feelings for himself. He’d known for a while that he was doomed to live a fucked up life. But that couldn’t be the same for Sam. Even dad had agreed with that. Dean was the screw up kid, not Sam.

With every day that went by, every monster that Dean killed, he realized more and more how much he missed his brother. There wasn’t anyone to talk to when eating in the crappy truck stops. No one to bitch about the music Dean insisted on blasting. No one to fight with over who got first shower. And it wasn’t even something that could be filled with women. He tried, even went on an actual date or two, completely sober. They only made him miss Sam more.

It got so bad that he started asking Bobby if he could talk to Sam. He knew Sam wouldn’t want to talk to him. He knew Sam was hurt that Dean had left him. It wasn’t like he’d left him all alone, he’d left him with the best person he possibly could. But he’d still basically abandoned his brother. Sam wouldn’t see the reasons that Dean had for his actions. And while Dean still believed them, knew it was the right thing to do, it still stung when Bobby said, yet again, that Sam wasn’t home, or was asleep, or any other bullshit excuse he gave. If Dean thought about how maybe leaving Sam was a bad idea, he started thinking maybe other things weren’t such a bad idea either. He usually drowned those thoughts out with liquor.

***

Dean was in Vermont, hurrying to his motel room through a flurry of snow, when his phone rang. In the fumble for the room key he almost dropped the phone, but caught it at the last second, instead dropping his bag into the snow. Cursing, he glanced at the phone, saw it was Bobby calling, and opened the phone, yelling “hold on a second” into the receiver. He managed to get himself and his belongings into the room in one piece, though he wasn’t so sure about his hands. They might have fallen off back there, since he sure couldn’t feel them. He sat on the floor with his back to the door, blowing into his frozen hands, and finally remembered the phone.

“Hey Bobby, sorry man, it’s freezing outside,” Dean said, holding the phone by the palm of his hand, “think my hands might have frozen off.” When he didn’t get a reply, he frowned. “Bobby? You still there?”

And then there was an answer, but not the one he expected. “Dean?” he heard, in a hushed voice, and fuck, that was Sam.

“Sammy?” he couldn’t help but reply hopefully, in the same quiet voice as his brother.

“Hey Dean,” Sam said, “It’s me.”

 _Sammy._ “Damn, it’s good to hear your voice. How’ve you been?”

“Ok. School’s good. I help Bobby with research.”

“Good! Put that brain of yours to good use.” Dean said, affectionately.

“Dean?” Sam started to ask, hesitantly, “How are you?”

“You know, hunting. Just saved this family from a crazy revenge ghost. You should have seen her grave, Sammy. I’ve never seen so many jewels in one coffin.” He’d been tempted to steal and sell them, but had instead left them to burn along with the ghost.

“Are you doing anything for…” and then he said something Dean couldn’t make out.

“What was that?” Dean asked.

“Christmas?” Sam repeated, louder this time. “Will you come see me?”

“Sammy,” Dean started to say, hesitant to speak much more.

“Please, Dean, I miss you so much. And Bobby wants you to come, I already asked and he said it’d be okay.” Dean couldn’t miss the hopeful tone in Sam’s voice. His mind went back to all the Christmas’ they’d had throughout the years. The crappy decorations and even crappier presents. The years that dad was drunk the entire time, and the year he hadn’t even shown up at all. Part of a normal life was Christmas, with your family, and Dean wanted Sam to be normal, right?

“Ok,” Dean said.

“Really?” Sam yelped excitedly. It brought a grin to Dean’s face.

“Yes, I’ll come. It’ll take me a day or two to get there, but yeah.”

“Thank you Dean!” Sam said, “I’ll tell Bobby, ok?”

“Sure,” Dean replied, and then they lapsed into silence. Dean was suddenly really happy, excited to see his brother. But it didn’t change the fact that the last four months had happened. He wasn’t sure what to say, now, on the phone, but then Sam broke the silence.

“I guess I’ll see you in a few days,” he said, unmistakably happy.

“Yeah,” Dean said, relieved to put off a painful conversation, “See ya, Sammy.”

“Bye.” Sam said, and ended the call.

Dean fell asleep that night with a smile on his face. He dreamt they were 4 and 8, and Dean was pushing a joyfully shrieking Sam around a parking lot in a stolen shopping cart. Sam hung on for dear life, but he didn’t need to. Dean would never let anything happen to him.

***

It would have taken more than a day of driving under normal conditions, but with the weather it wasn’t until three days later than Dean made it to Sioux Falls. But once he had less than an hour to go, he got incredibly anxious. He and Sam had had a good conversation on the phone, but he wasn’t sure how Sam would react when in the same room as him. He must still be pissed that Dean left him.

Dean, ridiculously, rang the doorbell. There was a short scuffle, and the then Sam was right there, wearing some Christmas sweater Bobby must have found in his attic or something. They stared at each other for half a second before they were in each other’s arms, reluctant to let go. Sam was warm and _there_ and Dean was pretty sure he breathed out Sam’s name a few times. They stood like that, half in the doorway, until Bobby shouted out about letting the warm air out and they broke apart.

“I missed you, Sammy,” Dean said, unable to contain his grin.

“Me too, Dean,” Sam said, shutting the door, grin almost as large as Dean’s.

They continued to look at each other. “Did you miss me, idjit?” came Bobby’s voice from the living room.

Dean audibly laughed and walked into the living room, with Sam right on his heels. He stopped short, though, when he saw a fucking Christmas tree, complete with lights. “I didn’t know you were such a holiday person, Bobby,” Dean said, hugging Bobby as he stood up to meet Dean.

Bobby hugged him tight and clapped him on the back a few times before he let go. “That was all Sam. He wanted to decorate for some reason. I guess for you, kid,” Bobby said, taking a healthy swig of his whisky. Dean looked over at Sam and he was blushing furiously, but trying to hide it. Dean smiled and hooked his arm around Sam’s shoulder, and pulled him down to the couch next to Bobby.

Without even meaning to, probably, Bobby started telling stories about John. At some point Dean started drinking whisky as well, and they even gave Sam a glass or two. Hours later the three of them were in stitches from laughing so hard, and Dean was wondering why he’d stayed away for so long. It was such a simple night, but easily the best he’d had since the summer.

When it came time for bed, Dean was momentarily unsure where to go, but Sam grabbed his wrist and so he followed him up the stairs to the guest room, which, once Dean got a good look, seemed to be Sam’s room now. One bed was unmade and there were clothes and books on the other. There were even a few posters tacked up to the walls. Not for the first time that night, Dean wished he had been there with Sam. He wished he hadn’t left him. But obviously his brother had done ok for himself, if all the smiles could count for anything. It only made Dean feel worse for abandoning him.

“Sammy,” Dean started to say, once they were in the room with the door closed, “I’m so sorry I left you, I just –“

Sam basically shushed him. “Forget it, Dean,” he said, and pushed him into the bed.

“Sammy, I am, I –“ Dean tried to say again, but Sam just pushed him down further and got into the bed with him.

“You’re drunk Dean. Go to sleep.” Sam turned the bedside light off and carefully angled his body around Dean’s. Dean fell asleep within seconds.

***

The next day was Christmas eve and they again spent the day doing things Dean had never done before, like decorate a Christmas tree and string popcorn. Bobby even made them go out and buy enough food to make a feast for the next day. On the way back from the store they stopped to move a tree branch that had fallen in the road, which quickly escalated into a snowball fight. Sam was surprisingly good at hitting Dean right in the face. They made it back to the house soaked and happy.

That night they watched ‘It’s a wonderful life’. This was actually something Sam and Dean had done before. One thing motels do have is TV, and it seemed like every single channel played ‘It’s a wonderful life,’ on Christmas eve. But it was somehow different watching with Bobby, fighting over the blanket and the popcorn bowl. Dean had never seen Bobby look happier. He kept calling the boys ‘idjits’ and even participated in helping Sam throw popcorn at Dean.

Dean wondered how much of the Christmas stuff was for Sam’s benefit. He didn’t think Bobby would be so gung-ho to celebrate Christmas and even stop hunting and researching for a few days if he and Sam hadn’t been there. But he had to admit it was really nice. He’d forgotten what it was like to relax. Since the summer and ensuing few weeks, Dean hadn’t stopped hunting. He’d never gone on such a long stretch before. Even after he dropped out of school, he spent a lot of time just making money to take care of Sam. Dean knew he had to talk to Bobby and thank him for everything he’d done for them during the past four months. Dean couldn’t believe he’d just left Sam with Bobby without consulting with either of them. It didn’t matter than Bobby was completely willing and even eager, it was still a shitty thing to do. But there was never a good moment to bring it up, not when Bobby was laughing with Sam and looking so carefree.

That night Dean was completely sober when he and Sam trucked up the stairs to Sam’s room. Once they were in the room, Dean started moving the books and clothes from the second bed.

“What are you doing?” Sam asked, closing the door behind him.

Dean continued to set the books in a neat pile in the corner. “Clearing off this bed so I can sleep in it.”

“But you can sleep with me, right?” Sam sat heavily on his bed, looking expectantly at Dean.

“No, Sammy. I told you, we can’t do that anymore.” Sam looked hurt, just as Dean imagined he would, but he still knew it was the right thing to do.

“But we’re just going to sleep, we don’t have to fuck.”

God, that word still sounded so wrong coming out of Sam’s mouth, but Dean’s dick jerked happily at hearing it. “It’s just better this way, Sam,” Dean said, bed finally cleared. He pulled open the covers and looked back up at Sam. He still looked sad, but he’d started getting ready for bed, so Dean figured he’d be okay with it.

It almost felt awkward, going through the routine of brushing teeth and slipping on t-shirts, but then on his way to the bathroom, Dean ruffled Sam’s hair affectionately, and the tension was gone. He still couldn’t believe he’d missed four months of his dorky baby brother.

After the lights were off and they started to drift off to sleep, Dean remembered his drunken apology to Sam the previous night. And he had to try again, make sure Sam knew how sorry he was. “Sammy,” he said, hesitantly, waiting a few seconds for a response. When he didn’t get one he continued on anyways. “I really am so sorry for leaving you at the end of the summer. I just didn’t know what to do after dad, but I never should have done that. I promised I would take care of you and I left you and it’s okay if you don’t forgive me for it, but you have to know that I wish I could take it all back.” He stopped, listening for a reply, but it was quiet. Sam must have fallen asleep. Dean resolved to try again in the morning, and turned over, ready to fall into sleep, but then he heard Sam speak.

“I didn’t, not for a long time,” Sam said, voice rough at first but growing in strength as he went on, “I was so pissed at you, especially after everything that happened this summer. And then when dad -.” Sam stopped and Dean turned to face his bed. “And I couldn’t believe you just left me, and I didn’t want to talk to you at all. But after a few weeks it got okay. Bobby is good. And he said you were hunting and I guess one day I realized I wasn’t mad at you anymore. But I missed you so much.”

“I failed you, Sammy, I’m so sorry,” Dean said again. “My only real job was to take of you and I-“ Dean broke off, his voice full of emotion, and pressed his fist into his mouth.

They laid in the dark for a few minutes as Dean breathed heavily into his hand. Then Sam got out of his bed and slipped into Dean’s. “It’s ok, Dean,” Sam said, brushing his hand over Dean’s shoulder. “Dean, you came back.”

Dean suddenly found he couldn’t keep it together, not here in the dark with his brother. Sam held him as he cried. Maybe he’d never forgive himself, but if Sam did, that was good enough. Dean fell asleep with Sam wrapped around him, and he couldn’t imagine anywhere he’d rather be.

***

Five months later Sam and Dean were still sharing a bed at night. Neither one mentioned sex again, but they slept better together. After all those months apart, Dean found he couldn’t handle being apart from Sam for more than a few hours. They even spooned together, though Dean would never admit he was the little spoon. Sometimes someone woke up with a hard-on, but that was easily taken care of in the shower.

When Sam was at school, Dean worked at the mechanic’s shop in town. Sometimes he helped Bobby with the salvage yard as well. The day after Dean broke down with Sam, Christmas actually, he had a long talk with Bobby. As predicted, Bobby made the months he’d cared for Sam seem like nothing. Every day since then Dean had worked to show Bobby his gratitude. Bobby also practically forced him to stay.

On the weekends Dean and Sam, and sometimes Bobby as well, went on hunts. They saved a lot of people.

Dean didn’t know how he’d ever thought he could live without Sam. Being with him all the time again made him realize even more how broken he was during the time apart. He was just a shell of himself away from his brother. Without Sam, Dean’s life had no meaning.

As it got closer to summer, Dean started to think about what they’d do when school was out. Sam still had two years to go, and they’d already decided he would finish in Sioux Falls. But there were three whole months of summer before that. They used to dread summers, full of new crappy motels every night. But this summer didn’t need to be like that. They could hunt, sure, but that didn’t need to be all they did. Then one day Sam brought up what Dean had been avoiding mentioning.

“Could we go back to the cabin in Idaho?” It was the very end of May and Sam was sitting on a car while Dean worked on the Impala’s engine. “Maybe not for the whole time, but for part of it?” Dean couldn’t miss the hope in Sam’s tone. He grunted in response to encourage Sam to continue talking. “That was the best month, Dean. Not just the –“ and they both knew what Sam was referring to, so it didn’t need saying. “But the swimming and stars and stuff. That was so much fun.”

Dean collected some dripping grease and rubbed it into his fingers as he stood back up, done with the Impala. “Yeah. I think we could do that.” It never got old seeing Sam smile. “Maybe we can get you a legitimate driver’s license too, since you’re all grown up and 16 now.”

Sam grinned and wrapped his arms around Dean. “Thanks, Dean,” he whispered in Dean’s ear, as Dean tightened his grip on his brother, “You’re the best.” Before it got too girly Dean wiped his greasy fingers on Sam’s face just so he could hear him shriek. But not before Sam snuck a kiss onto Dean’s forehead.

***

Two weeks later Sam was finished with school and Bobby was making them promise to call in at least once a week.

“You’re gonna get sick of our voices, Bobby!” Dean yelled out the window as they pulled away. “You’ll beg us to quit calling!” Dean didn’t miss the grin on Bobby’s face in the rearview mirror. He turned the AC/DC up as high as they could stand it and glanced over at Sam, grinning in return, as they gunned it out of town.

They drove all day. Dean even let Sam drive for a few hours. Dean just stared at his brother the whole time. He was so beautiful, smiling and hair flopping in the wind that it hurt. But he couldn’t look away.

By the time they made it to the cabin it was well past dark. Sam was positively bouncing with excitement as they got out of the car. “Dean, remember all the stars? There’s so many!” But before Dean could look up, Sam smiled at him knowingly. “Do you wanna go to the overlook?”

Instead of answering him, Dean took off running, yelling, “sucker!” behind him. He heard Sam scream back as they raced through the woods up to the overlook point. Even though it was dark, and they hadn’t been there in almost a year, it was second nature to find their way through the trees.

They made it at almost the same time and flopped down in the grass together, looking up at the sky. Dean knew it was a cliché, but he felt so small looking up at the stars. Because they were so far north and away from civilization, the number of stars they could see was unbelievable. It was all Dean could see in his vision, darkness broken by millions of tiny bits of light. Knowing he was pressed up against his brother was the only thing that kept him calm. Dean reached out and grabbed Sam’s hand and squeezed. Sam squeezed back and they continued to look at the sky.

Then Sam softly said his name and he turned to look and Sam’s face was _right there_ next to his. “Sammy,” he said, helplessly staring at Sam’s lips.

“Dean,” Sam pleaded, and Dean looked up into Sam’s eyes. They were bright and hopeful and the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Dean’s heart started beating faster as he stared into them, subconsciously turning onto his side when Sam did the same. Sam’s other hand reached out for Dean’s hip and his heart beat even faster.

“Sammy, we can’t,” he whispered, barely convincing himself.

“Why?” Sam asked, other hand now rubbing the back of Dean’s head. Their lips were a few inches apart.

“It’s wrong. You’re going to find a nice girl and live a normal life.”

“Dean, it’s been a year. I still want this just as bad and I know you do too.” Dean could hardly argue with that. Another good reason for being the little spoon was that Sam was less likely to see his morning wood, which was practically a daily occurrence now. “We’re not normal, either. We’re the _opposite_. And if it’s wrong then I don’t want to be right.” It seemed like Sam liked clichés just as much as Dean. “All I need is you.”

Now that Dean thought about it, he hadn’t fucked anyone or even thought about trying to since Christmas. Apparently just being with Sam was all he needed. And here Sam was, saying the same. His baby brother, yes, but now that didn’t seem to matter as much.

Dean felt Sam’s grip tighten as he grabbed Sam’s shirt in both his hands and closed the last few inches between them. He couldn’t help remembering that this was the same place they’d kissed for the first time. And kissing Sam again was like returning home. It didn’t matter that it was another stupid cliché because it was completely true. Sam was his home and his heart.

Sam moaned into Dean’s mouth and he pulled back to look into Sam’s eyes again. “Dean,” Sam said, low, and Dean grinned in response. He ground his hips into Sam’s and reached back for Sam’s mouth. He thought his heart was going to explode. Then Sam turned them both so Dean was on top of Sam and their hard dicks were touching through their clothes. Dean muttered out a ‘Sammy’ as the passion turned full force. They were hungry for each other, and it was just like before, mouths and hips moving furiously, only now Sam was a little bigger and a lot stronger. Even with Dean’s weight on him he managed to thrust up against Dean and that only made Dean want to grind down just as hard. They didn’t break the kiss until Dean came, yelling out, into his pants. Sam’s head arched back in pleasure as Dean turned his mouth to Sam’s neck, licking at the sweat, and he came a few moments later, large hands gripping Dean’s hips.

Their breathing slowly returned to normal as they lay panting, Dean resting his head on Sam’s chest. Sam curled his arms around Dean’s back and kissed the top of Dean’s head and he thought his heart might burst again, this time from happiness.

***

This time they remembered to bring food with them, but when Dean threw a jar of peanut butter at Sam, he smiled, remembering, and they ate PB&J for breakfast. The previous night they’d fallen asleep together in bed after racing back down to the cabin. Stupid Idaho was still cold at night, even in June. Dean woke up sleepily, as always, and walked out to the tiny kitchen and sat down before remembering what had happened the night before. He’d been smiling stupidly about it and rummaging through their bags butter when Sam walked in. And so he’d thrown the peanut butter at Sam. Sam, after smiling and catching the jar, grabbed Dean’s face and kissed him good morning and man did Dean miss that.

“Hey Dean?” Sam asked, while they were sitting eating their breakfast, “Do you think I could fuck you?”

Dean almost choked on his sandwich. “Uhhhh,” he said once he stopped coughing, “Yeah. Yeah, Sammy.” He took another tentative bite of his sandwich and managed to swallow it before he realized Sam was staring at him expectantly. “What, now?” he asked. Sam grinned wickedly and _damn_ Dean’s cock practically jumped. “Well let me finish this sandwich-“ but before he could finish that sentence Sam grabbed him roughly and had him pinned against the wall. Dean whimpered as Sam kissed and licked at his ear. “God, Sammy,” he said, “What the hell’s gotten over you?”

Sam rubbed at Dean’s cock through his pants. “You,” he barked out. “Ten fucking months, Dean.” Dean tried to grab Sam’s side, but Sam growled and trapped both of Dean’s wrists to the wall. When Sam thrust against his dick Dean moaned and caught Sam’s mouth in a sloppy kiss. Sam straightened it out, but it was even wetter. They stayed like that, Dean trapped by Sam, kissing and grinding, when Sam unexpectedly let go of Dean’s wrists and dropped to his knees.

Dean was wearing sweatpants but Sam quickly changed that. It felt so good to have Sam’s hand on his dick again. And his mouth was even better. Dean didn’t even try to silence himself anymore, he just muttered and moaned as Sam sucked on the head of his cock and ran his thumb on the underside, occasionally detouring to his balls. Dean knew he wasn’t going to last long, but Sam didn’t seem interested in stopping. Sam sucked his mouth off of Dean’s dick and started rapidly jacking it with his right hand while the other moved back to palm Dean’s ass. He squeezed it and his fingers teased at Dean’s crack. When Sam’s fingers hit his hole, Dean came, hard, into Sam’s hand. “Thought you wanted to fuck me, Sammy,” he gasped out, teetering slightly.

Sam held him upright with his clean hand. “We’re getting to that,” he said. Dean thought he was going to lick his hand off, but instead he grabbed Dean’s hand and pulled him to the ground. “Take your shirt off.” Dean couldn’t help but obey. This rough, dirty side of Sam was so hot. And when Sam shoved his back to the floor and spread his legs, Dean felt his cock start to harden, even though he’d just come. Sam held the hand with Dean’s come out like a present.

“Wait,” Dean said. He didn’t want to be the only one naked here. If they were going to have sex on the floor of the kitchen, then dammit Sam needed to get naked. “Take your clothes off. Wanna see you.”

Sam definitely moaned at that. “Okay,” he said, and carefully pulled off his shirt and boxers. Dean gaped a little when he saw Sam’s hard dick. It didn’t seem possible, but it’d gotten bigger in the last year. “Can’t wait to be stuffed full of your cock, Sammy,” Dean said, because two could play at this game. Sam’s mouth flew open and he leaned down to kiss Dean quickly before moving down to his thighs. He licked at the insides of Dean’s thighs before licking experimentally over Dean’s hole. Dean actually cried out but Sam’s tongue was gone just as quickly. In its place was a finger soaked in come. Sam slowly fucked his finger in and out, coating the inside, before adding a second finger. Dean groaned, partially in pain, because it’d been a long time and he was really fucking tight. But Sam’s fingers were opening him up and it felt amazing. For whatever reason they’d never done this last summer. Dean had always been the one topping. He didn’t usually like to bottom because when you don’t know the guy it gets really uncomfortable, either emotionally or physically. But this was Sam. Dean quite enjoyed being torn apart by Sam. It was intimate by nature, but instead of feeling awkward, this just felt so _right_.

By the time Sam had three fingers up in Dean, the come was all used up, slathered on the inside of Dean instead. Dean was writhing around on the floor, trying to get a hold of Sam’s cock, but he couldn’t reach. When Sam pulled his fingers out Dean looked up at him. “Come on, man, do it.”

But now Sam looked hesitant. “Are you still…safe?” he asked. Dean wished he’d never slept with all those people last year. He’d actually went and gotten checked out, properly, by a doctor though, and he was clean. At least he’d always been smart enough to use a condom.

“Yeah, Sammy, I’m clean.” Dean told him. “Now I want you in me, come on!”

Sam spit into his hand and greased up his own dick. Dean knew it was going to hurt, but he didn’t care. Sam brushed his dick over Dean’s hole, and his cock let out a little dribble of precome. He was ready for this like yesterday. But for all Sam’s confidence and control earlier, he now looked nervous. Dean had to remember that this was his first time fucking someone. Topping was an incredibly different experience than bottoming.

“Hey, Sammy,” Dean said, reaching out for Sam’s arm. Sam looked down into his eyes and Dean smiled at him. “This is gonna be great, okay?” Dean lowered his hand to Sam’s cock and guided him back to his own hole. “It’s all you, dude.” Sam took Dean’s hand into his own and crossed their fingers as he slowly pushed into his brother. Dean’s eyes closed instinctively on the sudden pain and he squeezed Sam’s hand tight. But once his body adjusted it was amazing. Dean wrapped his legs around Sam’s back as Sam gained confidence and started thrusting. The sight of his brother fucking into him was too good to be true. Especially once Sam hit his prostate. Dean cried out a ‘yeah, Sammy,’ and yanked Sam down as best he could for a kiss. But then Sam hooked Dean’s legs around his elbows and it was suddenly much easier to kiss.

Dean knew he was going to be sore and full of bruises from fucking on the wood floor, but he didn’t care. He reached down for his cock and jacked it in time with Sam’s thrusts. But Sam noticed and broke their kiss. And again, before he registered what was happening, Sam managed to flip them so Dean was on top of Sam. Sam’s dick had slipped out in the roll, so Dean reached behind and guided himself down onto Sam’s cock again. They’d turned as well, so that the wall was now behind Sam’s back and he was mostly upright. Dean fucked down onto Sam’s cock and kissed Sam again as Sam grabbed at his cock. The new angle allowed Sam’s cock to hit Dean’s prostate with each thrust, and that combined with the hand job and the kissing had Dean coming, once again, into Sam’s hand. His ass clenched around Sam’s dick as he came, lips still attached to Sam’s. As he calmed down Sam called out Dean’s name as he came as well, deep into Dean.

Dean pressed his forehead to Sam’s with his eyes closed and found Sam’s hand again. He intertwined their fingers and opened his eyes, staring directly into Sam’s. Dean was in Sam’s lap, with Sam’s softening cock still inside him. But they just looked into each other’s eyes.

“Dean?” Sam asked softly, “This is – this time – “ he trailed off.

“Yeah, Sammy,” Dean whispered back, “Forever and always.” Sam grinned, big, and Dean couldn’t help but grin himself. He also couldn’t help kissing the grin off Sam’s face. .

***

Exactly a year after John’s death Sam and Dean buried his ashes next to Mary’s grave. It was nothing like Dean had imagined. In the past year, somehow, he’d forgiven his dad. He learned a lot during those months he was apart from Sam. He learned that Sam was all he had, and he was never going to leave him again. So burying the ashes was actually good. He chose to remember the good things about his dad and hoped Sam would too. He’d also certainly remember all the training dad had given him. And maybe one day he and Sam would try and find the thing that killed mom. For now they were happy as they were. They’d stayed at the cabin most of the summer, but had also gone on a few hunts. Now it was almost time to go back to Bobby’s house. Sam had almost convinced Dean to enroll in night school to get his GED.

When Dean turned to leave the grave, Sam told him he wanted to stay behind for a minute, and so Dean walked back to the Impala alone. Dean hadn’t told Sam yet, but he was pretty sure he was going to do the night school. He wanted to be able to support himself and his brother and help Bobby with the bills.

Dean wasn’t sure how he and Sam would fit in fucking at Bobby’s house, but he knew they’d come up with something. Besides, it was almost enough to just sleep in the same bed together.

When Sam came back to the car his eyes were wet, but he smiled when Dean caught his eye. “You ok?” Dean asked, as he brushed his shoulder up against Sam’s.

“Yeah,” Sam replied, and they leaned against the door of the Impala together, looking up at the stars. Sam’s hand found Dean’s in the dark, and he squeezed back just as tight.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted in parts to my tumblr.


End file.
